Cujo III Reloaded - This Time It's Personal
by Gone2Far
Summary: Someone's sort of lost and someone's still trying to make an escape. The killer apparently isn't a very good driver.
1. Grounds for Murder

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time it's Personal

Chapter 1

**Okay, here's the first chapter. Hope to keep this story a little shorter than the last. Have to get back into 'humor' mode and it's harder than I thought it would be. Hope you like the attempt. Let me know if you do or don't. As Mae West said about the mirrors on her bedroom ceiling: "I just like to know how I'm doin'".**

**As always, Imaginary Beta is responsible for any errors and she's got an ice cream hangover so I can't be too hard on her.**

**Disclaimer: Never make any money from this and don't own anything. Husband still doesn't get it but ninja cats will go along with it if I agree to let them sleep on the keyboard.**

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Grounds for Murder

He kept to the shadows. He'd always been good at stealth. The enemy would never know what hit them when he'd burst from cover to deliver a lethal blow before disappearing back into the darkness to plan another op.

In the pool of light, his unsuspecting target sat studying something before him. Little did he know, in another moment, his blood would be spilled on the surface of . . .

"Hey! No you don't!" he heard a sharp warning behind him, "Leave Danny alone!"

_Rats!_

Startled enough to nearly jump out of his chair, the blonde detective looked up to find his boss/friend leaning down to snatch up a surprised looking cat. Taking in the too familiar scene, he began: "What did I tell you Steven! One more time! One more time your bloodthirsty pet sneaks up on me intending to slit my throat and . . . " he only flailed angrily then; at a loss for words – something that rarely happened.

"Oh come on Danny. He didn't even get near you this time . . . and he's not my pet!" defended McGarrett as he stroked the animal now purring contentedly in his arms.

"Yeah, this time! What about last week, huh? He wrecked another pair of my favorite argyles! I have to get them sent all the way from Jersey! No store on this rockpile even carries those kinda socks!"

"Maybe Cujo is just a fashion critic?"

"Not friggin' funny you jerk! You now owe me for two pairs of socks and one more box of bandaids." fumed the blonde.

"Danny, he's fine. Listen, he's purring." said the tall man, once more stroking a large hand across the glossy grey coat as the sound of contentment rumbled from the small animal. "He's not gonna do anything to you."

"Yeah. Not now. He's in the arms of the world's biggest sucker and cat-lady-in-denial but he had plans to kill me! You know he did!"

"D, I don't think a cat actually 'plans' assassinations." laughed McGarrett _knowing it was a total lie._ _This__ cat is, of course, perfectly capable of plotting to off someone_.

Red faced with ire, the detective behind the desk railed on: "Why on God's lava coated earth should I even have to worry about being killed and eaten in my own office! Huh!"

"I don't think he'd actually eat you Danny. Cats don't eat things that are mostly made of malasada and pizza grease."

Danny sat fuming silently for a moment glaring at his smirking partner as the Spawn of Satan looked smugly back at him from the tall man's arms.

"Just get out of my office." he finally said through clenched teeth. "Take the grey mamba with you or I swear I'm gonna shoot the little bastard."

Just then, the standoff was interrupted by the ringing of McGarrett's cell. Deftly tucking Cujo under one arm, he reached into one of his many pockets and brought it to his ear; answering "McGarrett".

After listening for a brief moment, he said, "Be there in ten."

"Come on Danny, we got a case." he said as he set down the cat that immediately scampered off.

Picking up his gun, badge and keys, the blonde followed his leader out the door while grumbling about 'deranged animals and their psychotic pets', (without being clear which was which).

…..

The barista lay sprawled in the coffee diluted pool of crimson. A white paper cup, venti size, if Danny wasn't mistaken, lay on the floor beside her. The liquid caught in the seams of the ceramic tiles of the floor flowed outward in a macabre sort of tic-tac-toe pattern.

Another two green-aproned employees stood in shock just outside the glass fronted shop now abuzz with cops and crimescene techs.

"It wasn't a robbery. Cash is still in the register." said the stocky man wearing a police uniform who, when he saw the familiar silver Camaro pull up to the scene, immediately strode toward the two men emerging from it. He'd only recently learned the car wasn't even McGarrett's; it was his partner's.

He supposed it was one of the things that served to fuel those stupid rumors about the tall dark-haired man and the shorter blonde who seemed to come as a package but it was mostly due to the bickering that made them sound like an old married couple. What kept anyone from mentioning it, at least to their faces, was the reputation that Kiliona knew was well founded. Either of the duo could kick anyone in the department's ass any day of the week and twice on Sunday - not to mention the legend of McGarrett hanging people off of the edges of roofs or throwing them into shark cages.

"Hey Miko. Whatta we got this time?" asked Danny as he greeted the familiar uniformed cop.

"Dead barista." Kiliona answered succinctly as McGarrett nodded then strode past him already locked on task. He and former HPD cop Danny Williams quickly followed after the tall man as he entered the shop.

"So this is like the other two." said the SEAL; making an observation as he took in the grisly scene.

"Yeah, like the other two – unsolved." said Danny sourly

Kiliona almost felt the need to defend his department but they were right. They'd probably been called in because the previous coffee shop murders had made the evening news and HPD was taking flack for not yet catching the murderer or murderers. The nationwide chain of coffee emporiums with their recently PC'd mermaid logo was becoming even more well-known if that was possible. Kiliona would bet a month's pay the chain's board of directors had already contacted the governor about it. Denning would no doubt reason that if tourists were becoming afraid to stop for a venti, half-caf, caramel macchiato then the world would surely come to an end; hence, Five-0's involvement.

"Okay, who was this kid?" brusquely demanded McGarrett; a behavior that seemed to rankle many in the department. Kiliona had long ago recognized it was just the commander's military way of doing things and what seemed like arrogance was just self-confidence totally backed up by ability. Though others in the department still took exception to a man they considered a 'cowboy'; the uniformed cop had actually come to like him. Besides, the two partners were sometimes entertaining – however unintentionally.

"Name was Heather Sang. Local girl, eighteen, part-time art student at UH Hilo." answered the uniformed man reciting from memory what he'd learned from one of his own department's detectives already on scene - the man who was not going to be happy seeing the governor's special task force here, McGarrett in particular.

After giving a quick once-over of the interior of the shop, they came back outside to talk to the other two baristas standing in a teary huddle on the sidewalk. Standing next to them was a crewcut muscular man with a badge on his belt. The expression on his face was not friendly when they walked up to the group.

Trying to head off any issues between Detective Kilkenny and his sometimes entirely too focused partner, Danny greeted the man with a handshake. "Mickey, how ya doin'."

"Okay until a moment ago." said Kilkenny looking as though he'd just sucked on the world's largest lemon.

_No wonder the guy's such a bad poker player, _thought Five-0's own detective.

McGarrett didn't even nod to acknowledge HPD's plain-clothes man on scene; he just turned to the two baristas standing next to him. The commander and HPD's detective had their history and it wasn't a good one nor was it worth the aggravation to go over it again.

"I don't know why anyone would want to kill Heather." sniffed the tiny dark-haired girl with the tasteful nose ring and whose apron came down past her knees and about halfway to her ankles because of her miniscule height. "She was always smiling."

"So you can't think of anyone who'd want her dead?" asked Detective Williams

"No! She never had a bad thing to say about anyone. I mean there were times when . . . ", the girl trailed off.

"Times when what?" asked the tall man quirking his eyebrows. Kilkenny remained silent for the moment but Danny could tell it wasn't easy.

"Well, times when she'd get a little snippy with customers. You know, the ones who go all, 'No, I said non-fat soy and two shots not one and make sure the foam isn't too foamy this time' she mimicked in a whine as she rolled her eyes.

At the girl's impression of an entirely too persnickety customer, McGarrett thought he himself would do something more than get 'a little snippy' to anyone so irritating. He wasn't aware his partner was thinking along the same lines.

_Totally unlikely it's gonna happen but if we ever have to go undercover in a coffee shop, I'll have to make sure Steve isn't armed. There's no way he'd put up with crap like that without shooting someone - even if they did deserve it. _"So, you say she got snippy with someone?" asked Danny, refocusing on the job.

"Yeah but we've all been there. I mean a person can only take so much crap for nine-dollars an hour, you know?"

"Anyone in particular annoy her?" asked HPD's Kilkenny; trying to regain some control over the crime scene – the one he considered his.

"There's this woman. She comes in early every morning and then again about ten to get her second fix."

The term 'fix' amused Danny but it was probably an appropriate one. Both Steve and Kono were pretty grumpy without a cup or two in the mornings. He knows _no one_ will ever again use up the last of the coffee stored in the breakroom and neglect to order more.

"You know this customer's name?" asked the SEAL

The girl shook her head in the negative but the employee next to her; a tall skinny kid came out of his shocked trance and said, "It's Monica. I heard her answer her phone a couple of times at the register. She's such a bitch, it kinda stuck in my head."

"Yeah, that's another thing that woman does. She makes you wait while she talks on the phone even if there are people behind her!" piped up the little brunette.

"Yeah, then if you say something, she cops an attitude!" added the boy

_Steve could never work here._ thought Danny once again, _He'd wind up back in Halawa on the first day._

"So, you'd recognize her if she comes here today?" asked the man who put up with no one's crap for longer than a millisecond.

The two nodded solemnly, looking eager to be of help.

"It's almost ten. You guys stick around and let us know when you see her." ordered the commander.

"So, McGarrett", said Kilkenny, declining to call the tall man by his rank as most everyone else does. He didn't want to give any indication of respect for the man he considered a law enforcement disaster and the governor's pet cobra, "With Five-0 taking over this case, I guess I can just go home and put my feet up considering you guys will make sure the islands are safe and secure – at least from the _badguys_." he almost sneered.

Ignoring the dig, McGarrett answered coolly, "Yes and no, the governor thought getting both departments working on this could get it resolved a little sooner. Is there a problem?" he asked mildly, voice not betraying the dislike he had for the man whose ambition exceeded his investigative abilities - not to mention he thought the guy was a flaming asshole.

Besides doing his detecting on this case, Danny was also beginning to recognize it was going to be his job to run interference between Commander Steve McGarrett and Detective Mickey Kilkenny if both departments were going to work on this case together.

When the two had clashed before, Mickey hadn't come out victorious to say the least. Steve could be an uncompromising bastard if he wanted to be so it was best to keep them from interacting with each other without having an intermediary or, as Danny was thinking at the moment, _separate cages._ Though the blonde knew McGarrett was professional enough to not let anything interfere with the case; he wasn't the most patient man when it came to unnecessary bullshit.

Kilkenny announced, "I'm going to go back inside. You know, in case anything was disturbed."

McGarrett knew the man was just trying to get under his skin by implying Five-0 and himself in particular were amateur enough to contaminate the scene. _The guy certainly knows how to carry a grudge._

Several minutes later, Kono and Chin arrived after wrapping up something on the other side of the island and walked up displaying their badges to the uniforms securing the scene. There probably wasn't even any need to identify themselves because, by now, every cop on the islands was familiar with the faces of the Governor's Special Task Force.

HPD's Detective Kilkenny had already left; ostensibly to track down a lead with his own beleaguered partner, Phil Brotman, in tow. _Can't be easy working with that jerk,_ thought Five-0's second in command sympathetically.

"What do we know about this?" asked Chin as he walked up to Danny; Steve having gone back inside to take another look to see if they'd missed anything.

"So far, other than the victim's name, pretty much zip, zilch, nada." glumly answered the detective.

"So, we have another victim of the 'Macchiato Murderer' said Kono, "Denning's gonna be foaming at the mouth – no pun intended." said Kono who'd so very quickly taken to the sometimes macabre humor of cops.

"Pretty much looks that way" sighed Danny

As she glanced around the area, the Hawaiian woman asked "Where's the boss?"

"Inside going over the scene again in case we missed something but I don't think we did."

"So, what do we know about the victim?"

"Heather Sang, eighteen, part-time barista and art student."

"Anything taken?" asked Kono, brow furrowing.

"Like before – nothing. Cash is still in the register and the safe wasn't opened."

Said Chin softly, "Poor kid. The job probably pays minimum wage plus tips. Not something to be killed over."

"You know, people who do this kind of work have to put up with a lot of crap. I tried it for maybe a week before I quit." said Kono

"Cuz," reminded Chin, "You only lasted a day and a half before you bailed."

"Well, it was that or wind up in jail for strangling a customer. I don't think any of us could do this kind of work."

"Yeah", smiled Danny, "Imagine SuperSEAL putting up with someone demanding a half-caf vanilla soy latte with just a smidge of caramel drizzles."

The three actually laughed aloud at the thought.

"He'd go berserk and shoot somebody by the second customer." chuckled Kono, trying to picture her BAMF leader adorned in a green apron.

"What's funny?" asked the man in question as he walked up to his team.

"Nothing" answered three voices at once.

"Uh huh" said the tall man knowing that they were probably talking about him . . . again. For some reason he still couldn't figure out, his behavior always seemed to amuse them. "Any reason you guys are standing around instead of, you know, detecting or something?"

"What do you need us to do boss?" asked Kono losing the smile; an expression of serious purpose replacing it.

"It's almost ten and some of the regulars will be showing up for their coffee breaks. Why don't you question anyone who makes an appearance? Danny and I are waiting for someone named Monica to show. Bring her to us if she does."

If they were lucky, word of this third murder hadn't yet gotten out to the press and the people who made it a daily habit to come here wouldn't know the place is a crime scene until they actually showed up. Of course, it was probably all over the net by now but maybe the woman in question hadn't yet seen it.

"Find anything more?" asked the detective of his partner who stood with a frown as he watched the cousins move quickly away to begin gleaning information from the still relatively small group of bystanders behind the yellow tape.

The tall man compressed his lips and rested his hands on his lean hips before saying, "No, just that she was in the process of making an espresso. The grounds weren't dumped yet."

"Maybe it was for herself?"

"Maybe."

"The other two said Heather was the one who opened up this morning. They weren't scheduled to be here until 6:00."

"Shop opens at 5:30."

"Yeah, so if it was a customer, the victim was most likely murdered between then and when the other two showed up." said Danny

Steve knew the former Jersey detective liked to 'process' aloud and had long ceased to be annoyed when his 2IC would sum up the obvious. He'd gotten used to it along with the flailing hands and seemingly unending bitching. It was just Danny being Danny and though he'd never admit it 'aloud', he'd sort of come to like it.

…..

The tall ash blonde 'of a certain age' wearing a no doubt very expensive silk scarf and huge and equally expensive sunglasses approached the shop. Seeing the crime scene tape strung all around its entrance, she muttered, "Dammit" before turning to walk to the next of the entirely too numerous branches of the chain which was only a couple blocks away.

"Hey!" exclaimed the tall skinny boy who'd been diligently searching the crowd, "There she is!" as he pointed to the retreating figure of the woman Chin immediately jogged after; catching up in only a couple of steps.

"Ma'am?" he called out but she kept walking.

As she ignored the man calling out to her she was thinking,_ I need my coffee! I can't stop for this bullshit!_

"Halt! Five-0! We have some questions for you!" the voice wasn't quite as polite this time.

"Crap!" she said aloud; turning on her heel to face the sinewy Asian who'd halted her progress along the walkway.

Raising imperious and impeccably shaped brows, she waited for him to stride up to her.

"We have some questions to ask." said Chin displaying his badge for the obviously annoyed woman.

She only glanced at it dismissively. "What?" she demanded.

"You've been identified as someone who comes to this shop every day; once very early and then again at around ten AM. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I get here at exactly five-forty five every morning and then come back at about ten depending on how busy it is at work." she replied frostily not bothering to conceal her annoyance.

"When you came in this morning, did you find anything unusual?"

"Yeah, the ninny that usually gets my coffee wasn't anywhere around. She's got to be one of the worst baristas this chain has ever had. I was actually thinking about putting in a complaint to management."

"What sort of complaint?" asked Chin, already disliking the woman.

"She's very slow and when I tell her to leave room for cream; she always fills the cup too much. I also don't like her attitude."

"What is her attitude?"

"You know, like she's doing me a favor getting me a damned cup of coffee. I mean, it's her job, it's what she gets paid for isn't it?"

"So, you saw no indication she was here? Was the door open?"

"Yeah, at least she got that much done." huffed the blonde. "Are we done yet? I have things to do before I have to get back to work."

"I'm afraid we have a few more questions for you before you can leave." said Chin trying not to show his annoyance.

The blonde opened her mouth to speak just as Steve and Danny walked up to them.

"Your name?" demanded Steve in his no-nonsense style.

"Monica Strathern" she answered in the same imperious tone she'd used with Chin and, no doubt, with pretty much everyone. "Look, I'd like to get out of this sun." she announced, "I don't need any UV damage to my skin. Unlike the native population, I don't worship it." She said that with a dismissive glance at Chin and Kono and perhaps another at Steve.

While Danny may even agree about the sun worshiping stuff, he kept his tongue. He didn't want to encourage the attitude. He wasn't entirely sure it was only 'UV damage' she was referring to. What he did know for sure was that if she was going to cop an attitude toward anyone with an 'ethnic' appearance she's living in the wrong place_. I hope she wrinkles like a prune, _he thought.

.…

The little cat sat in the middle of the smart table, his usual perch at this time of day. The dark-haired man usually covered in cloth that looked like flowers always shooed him off but he wasn't here right now.

The door opened and his human and the loud man entered. Not even noticing him, they walked past. The loud man was talking. He was always talking. It was annoying. He would just not go away or get any less loud. His human seemed to like the man and always kept him safe from the attacks designed to make him go away. _If only he wasn't so loud._

He heard the door open again and looked across the shiny ground as his human's female came toward him. She reached out and stroked his head. He liked her; somehow instinctively realizing his human and this female are a bonded pair. She gave good scratches.

"Hey Cujo, you keeping the office safe?" she asked the animal that looked up at her from the smart table and purred loudly when she scratched him behind his ears. Cath had never really had a problem with the little cat and Cujo had finally ceased to try to inject himself between she and Steve when they hugged each other. They'd always made sure to lock him out of the bedroom when engaged in anything else. Eventually, he'd stopped his howling from the other side of the door.

As the two men stood going over the case in Steve's office, the door leading to the hallway opened and Cath entered. As always, _she looks spectacular_, thought both men. Like Kono, anything she wore looked good on her. This time it was her camos and she carried her duffel.

Knowing Steve had agreed to drop her off at Hickham so she could leave her car in the Palace's parking lot Danny smiled in greeting then discretely found something else to do; tucking a file folder under his arm he made to leave the two alone.

"Danny" exclaimed Cath, "You don't have to go. Steve and I said our goodbyes last night."

The tall man only smirked as his uniformed 'not my girlfriend' set down her bag and asked, "Ready to go? Have to catch the transport at 0900."

"We've got plenty of time." assured McGarrett as he wrapped a long arm around her uniform clad shoulders and gave her a quick peck on the lips, (about as much of a PDA as he ever displayed).

"Yeah, the way your 'friend' drives," exclaimed the detective to Cath while making air quotes around the word, "You've got all the time in the world. You could maybe even stop for dinner and a movie on the way."

"Danny, you do know who you're talking to, don't you?" smiled the tall man, "Cath drives just like I do – the most efficient way."

"Efficient, huh? You used the wrong adjective Steven and only just the one. Can we say 'reckless and insane'?"

"Why? Just because, unlike someone I know, we don't drive like ninety-year-olds on their way to a gerontologists' appointment?" snarked McGarrett

Danny shook his head in exasperation, "You know what, you Neanderthal, heaven forbid you two should ever reproduce 'cause your offspring would have to be kept on leashes to keep them from chasing rabbits at inopportune moments."

"Leashes are not funny Danny." scowled McGarrett in a surprising reply; even Cath raising her eyebrows at the reaction.

_Hmm,_ thought the blonde, _There's an issue there somewhere to explore further._

"Hey Danny," piped up the woman wrapped in the long tattooed arm of her 'not my boyfriend', "Our children would be fabulous!" she defended

"And very swift no doubt." was the detective's quick reply

Before Steve could even join in, Danny added, "No offense Catherine. I'm sure your children would be incredibly beautiful and intelligent but I hope your genes are strong enough to offset Rambo's 'cause he's definitely got a screw loose and I would hope they'd have a chance of at least _some_ mental stability."

Now Steve had begun to squirm a little with all this talk of offspring, "Let's get going Cath. If we go now, we'll have time to stop for coffee."

"At least, and a facial and massage and . . . "sarcastically exclaimed the blonde

"Already had the massage." purred Cath mischievously, "Steve has really great hands."

"Yeah, _great_ hands." repeated the tall man with a smirk as his arm tightened around the woman beside him.

"I'm going now" announced Danny, "before you decide to reveal any other component activities of your good-bye." With that he turned on his heel and walked swiftly away.

"Wait D! We haven't even gotten to the good part yet!" called out his partner to the retreating form.

"Can't hear you!" called back the blonde as he disappeared down the hallway.

"Good part?" asked Cath, one lovely eyebrow raised suggestively.

"It's all good." leered Steve

"That's such a cheesy phrase, Smooth Dog." she grinned back, turning to put both arms around the SEAL's neck.

"True though."

"Very true." was her heartfelt answer.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Was going to wait until story was complete before beginning to post it but am probably addicted to stress. Will try to update once a week or sooner if possible.**

**Reviews are better than Meowi Wowie even if ninja cats don't agree.**

**PS – For those of you who are not that fond of Cath, she won't be too present in this story. I've just shipped her off again.**


	2. Lights, Camera, No Action

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 2

**Here's the next. Hope you like it.**

**I didn't know Cujo had such loyal fans! Your response to the first chapter floored me. Thank you all so very much for your reviews, alerts and favorites. As always, what you think matters and helps shape the story. Would love to hear from you.**

**Disclaimer: If they were mine, writing fiction about them wouldn't be the only reason for staying up all night. Just sayin' . . . **

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Lights, Camera, Zero Action

This time, the lights and cameras were already there. One quick-on-the-trigger reporter was standing microphone in hand as they strode up to the front door of the coffee shop.

"That's Kiki Kenworthy." said Danny as they approached the sleek brunette holding her microphone and looking so very earnestly into the TV camera held by a woman wearing a cap with the station's logo on it.

"I don't care who she is." growled McGarrett not pausing in his long strides toward the shop, "Get her away from here!"

Danny walked up to the reporter in the middle of her narration; making sure to block the shot of her no doubt superficially solemn expression meant to convey 'The Tragedy'.

"All right, pack up your gear and leave." ordered the detective as he stood between reporter and camera; Steve placing a large hand over the lens as he passed them.

"Hey! We're working on an exclusive here!" exclaimed the annoyed woman in the bright fuchsia blazer. Hearing her, McGarrett stopped mid-stride and spun toward her, coming a few steps back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Danny.

"Your next 'exclusive' is going to be an up-close and personal report from inside a jail cell if you don't leave right now." said McGarrett as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her the stare that, on occasion, had actually made suspects wet their pants.

Not seeming the least intimidated, the already large eyes went larger, "Hey! Aren't you McGarrett and Williams of Five-0?" she exclaimed while running her gaze over the two men before her. "I must say, you look even better in person." Her voice had gone from annoyed to an almost purring sound.

Both men were a little startled at her observation. McGarrett recovering first growled "Leave now or you are going to be detained."

He turned on his heel and once again stalked toward the entrance to the shop.

As the ballsy reporter made to follow behind them McGarrett called over his shoulder to a uniformed officer who'd just arrived on scene, "Take Ms. Kenworthy into custody if she doesn't get the hell out of here right now!"

Danny had paused to turn toward the entirely too persistent reporter following so closely she almost bumped into him when he stopped. "You heard the man. Leave now or you're under arrest; you and your uhh . . . camera person."

"Okay, okay. Just doing my job. Talia and I are leaving." she put up her hands placatingly. "Just chill."

Danny only looked stonily back at her as she backed away two steps before turning to leave. The camerawoman just shrugged her surprisingly petite shoulders before following her.

There was only one patrolman visible when they entered. He was trying to calm a nearly hysterical girl on one side of the shop while a trail of bright blood crept across the floor from behind the counter on the other side of the room.

As before, this victim was a young woman wearing the trademark green apron. A single neat bullet hole was visible in the center of her forehead but, judging from the pool around her, the bullet had exited at the back of her head. Her, as yet, unclouded eyes stared upward; her face frozen in surprise.

"Why isn't this scene secured?" barked Steve to the harried looking patrolman as he flashed his badge to a kid he didn't recognize.

"Just got here." apologetically answered the young cop, "We received the call less than ten minutes ago. My partner's in the storeroom with the other body."

"Other body?" parroted Danny in dread.

"Yeah, there's two this time." then he added, mostly for the tall intimidating guy's information, "Other units are on the way." They heard sirens approaching then dying with comically abbreviated whoops as several units came to a halt outside.

"Go help make sure the area outside is secure" barked the commander, "We'll take it from here."

Steve nodded to Danny to stay with the young woman clutching a soggy wad of logo-emblazoned napkins in her hands while sitting at a table near the entrance.

"And" he added to the same officer, "If that reporter Kiki whatsername is still out there ", (knowing full-well she had to be), "detain her and her camerawoman too."

With that, he stepped past the body behind the counter toward the door indicated by the kid in uniform.

The officer already in the storeroom was closely inspecting the scene while being careful not to track through the blood pooled on the floor. The nametag affixed to his uniform just above his badge read 'Sgt. S. Ruggles'.

"Commander McGarrett." he greeted

"Tell me what you found when you got here Sam." Steve began without preamble, recognizing the sergeant from previous encounters at crime scenes.

Ruggles was familiar with the rather abrupt ways of the head of the Governor's Special Task Force. At first meeting, he thought the guy was an arrogant asshole but, over time, he'd come to respect the man immensely . . . even if he still thought Five-0's commander was a little nuts.

"Just got the call a few minutes ago. When we got here, door was open and there was a girl wearing one of their aprons standing outside and screaming her head off."

"Was that reporter out there as well?"

"Yeah. I saw their truck as I pulled up but they hadn't set up yet. Sorry about not keeping them out of here but there just wasn't time to deal with it."

"Don't worry about it." said McGarrett crouching to study the body lying face down on the concrete floor. Again, the method of demise was a neat hole almost obscured by the man's shaggy hair. Judging by the amount of blood and tissue decorating the room, he'd have to be identified by his fingerprints. They'd have to wait for the M.E. to roll him.

"You get any info on this guy?" inquired McGarrett

"Manager. His name's Haloa Ikeda." responded Ruggles. McGarrett noted with silent irony the name 'Haloa' translated as 'long life'.

"The girl out there says he always gets here about an hour early every morning to do paperwork and stuff before they open. She says he was always very punctual and was always telling his crew that hard work, not luck, made for success. Guess today wasn't his lucky day."

"Nor the girl's behind the counter." said McGarrett grimly

Just then, Danny walked in and propped open the self-closing door with a heavy trash receptacle. The crime scene people would be here any moment. Only taking a quick look around, he said, "Steve, you gotta come out here. There's something you're gonna want to hear."

…..

Doris McGarrett pushed open the door that had the large logo etched upon it.

Tall and lean like her son, she moved gracefully across the office toward the small breakroom at the end of the long hallway. She'd already spoken to Steve to tell him she'd be dropping by with lunch for everyone (and reassured him she didn't cook it herself). Though she had many talents unknown to most people and was as lethal as her son, cooking wasn't part of her skill set. Their Thanksgiving feast this year had been one purchased from a local market and only had to be taken out of the numerous foil containers and reheated. Steve hadn't told anyone how lucky they all were that such things were available.

She set the large take-out bag on the table and walked back toward her son's office where a fairly comfortable couch waited. She'd brought one of the latest Ludlum books with her and planned on settling in to wait. She knew though Steve had said they'd be back by 1400 and it was still only about 1345, their investigation could delay them for a while. Her heels clicked along the granite tile floor as she made her way to Steve's office. It was obviously empty; that is except for the small grey cat that sat staring at her from the middle of her son's desk.

She approached slowly. Though she didn't dislike them, she'd never really had time or patience for pets and Mary had pretty much been allergic to anything that lived so, much as John had wanted a dog, it never came about. Stevie had always been too frantically busy to fret about not having one. To keep him out of trouble, they'd made sure he was enrolled in activities to burn off the excess energy. He was a sweet kid but could 'get into things' if bored. Sometimes his quest for entertainment took the form of dismantling things to see how they worked. She was still pissed about the sewing machine. That her son had acquired a pet, a cat of all things, had surprised her.

The animal studied her warily. "Nice kitty" said Doris; slowly walking toward the small animal, (she'd heard the stories).

The two carefully sized each other up.

….

As he listened to KAEO's reporter, Steve learned that, this time, the murderer actually contacted the media to let them know another killing had just taken place. Someone with an electronically disguised voice had called the television reporter at her home number and given her the address where they now stood.

"The call woke me. It wasn't even dawn yet. It came in on my land line and I didn't recognize the number. The station doesn't even give out personal phone numbers." said Kiki Kenworthy; the last sentence spoken in a less clipped way, "I'll give it to _you_ if you need it." she purred.

"Give that number to Officer Kalakaua along with your cell number before you leave" said Steve, gesturing toward Kono, not wanting to go there himself. "Was any of this recorded?"

"No, I picked up before it went to voice mail. It had to be something important for somebody to call at that hour. Good thing I got to bed early last night." Somehow, she made the statement sound suggestive. The woman continued to scrutinize him and Danny as though they were in the sale window at Macy's.

"Did you even bother to contact the police?" he asked in a more than brusque manner.

"The call was already out. I heard it on the scanner before I was even out the door." she defended.

"Uh huh" drawled McGarrett not bothering to hide his skepticism. He idly wondered if the woman slept in her make-up. Though she'd rushed here, she was mascaraed to the max and her hair hadn't a strand out of place_. _Actually, now that he had time to actually look at her, he did recognize the KAEO reporter.

Cath had once commented as they watched the evening news together, _That woman's gotta be eighty percent silicone and whatever is left is cosmetics_. At the time, he'd taken it as cattiness but maybe she was right?

"So," said the reporter, eyes roving almost predatorily over the man before her; pupils dilated until only a thin rim of sapphire colored irises was visible around them she asked. "We get an exclusive on this for cooperating?" She somehow seemed to breathe the question seductively as she fixed him with a look that telegraphed her intent.

Replied McGarrett with obvious lack of interest, "What did I say earlier about your exclusive." The woman's attempt at seduction only served to annoy the crap out of him.

Kiki was actually in the process of changing her opinion of the commander. Besides being a dick about the exclusive, he hadn't responded to her usually successful come hither moves. _No matter how hot he is, he's an arrogant bastard. The other guy's okay though and really cute._

Danny stood smirking beside him. He well knew that Steve, having recently gotten his share of 'Barry White', was immune to the woman but he himself hadn't and wasn't. He'd also been subjected to the T.V. reporter's evaluation and, from what he could tell, had apparently passed inspection.

The haole detective would like to think it was because she had standards of some sort but she may only be 'interested' in any man who could further her livelihood by providing inside information. _Whatever._ Danny just knew she was barking up the wrong tree with Steve if only because the man's comely not-my-girlfriend would surely detach parts of his anatomy if she found out about it.

Be that as it may, as far as he himself was concerned, Gabby was still out of the country for the next two months and since there was still no understanding of exclusivity and they were free to date whomever, maybe . . .

"Dude." said a female voice beside him, "Don't even think about it. She'll eat you alive."

Turning in startled surprise, he locked eyes with the woman who smiled back with devilish amusement.

"Excuse me?" he said taken aback by the frank statement.

"I recognize the look. Sort of a cross between deer-in-the-headlights and Oh-boy!-Christmas-came-early- this-year." she laughed. "Just know that the islands are littered with the bodies of those who've made the mistake of taking her up on the offer."

She took off her backward facing baseball cap and revealed short glossy red hair that she brushed a hand through before setting the hat back on her head bill facing forward.

"I'll keep that in mind." he smiled back.

…

Other than the startling information from Ms. Kenworthy, there was nothing more to learn. As with the other murder scenes, the surveillance equipment had been disabled and the killer had left nothing traceable and no one had seen anything. So far, this investigation wasn't looking too promising.

Steve observed the KAEO reporter who had apparently given up trying to use her wiles on him and was now focusing on his partner. Steve made sure Kono got the reporter's home number and the number of the mystery caller along with the numbers of her camerawoman and the news director at the station. Since the caller had been so careful about disguising their voice, the phone would probably turn out to be a burner.

As the predatory reporter did everything but bat her eyelashes from behind a lace fan and swoon, McGarrett rolled his eyes and then gave Danny a warning glare. _If Gabby doesn't get home soon . . ._ he was thinking as his partner looked back at him with mock innocence. A few days ago, someone had brought up the subject of getting Cujo 'fixed'. If Danny kept getting so distracted, maybe they could get a two- for-one deal.

Steve blew out a breath of annoyance and turned back toward the calmer but still sniffling girl at the entrance who dabbed at her eyes before noisily blowing her nose. _Poor kid_ he thought sympathetically. They should probably check with her one more time so see if she remembered anything more. Chin and Kono were still canvassing bystanders and Danny was always so much better at talking to distraught witnesses. The commander liked to think it was because his partner had more practice from his years as a Jersey cop but as Danny so very often pointed out, (though Steve had yet to admit it), his mammal to mammal skills still needed some work. He motioned to Danny who reluctantly tore himself away from the coquettish reporter.

"Check with the girl one more time. Now that she's not so upset, maybe she'll be able to remember something."

Danny nodded and went to the front of the shop. Sitting in the chair opposite, once more, he began to gently interrogate the girl. Since the distraught young woman had come on scene after the murders to discover the bodies, they didn't expect to get anything useful from her.

Steve went to check with Max who'd just arrived with the death wagon. Maybe their M.E. could discover something to give them a break on the case but judging from the other murders it was unlikely. With this one, Denning would surely go ballistic. No one at Five-0, its leader in particular, was looking forward to giving him the update.

….

Lunch went surprisingly well. Doris behaved herself and didn't grill anyone or even call Steve 'Stevie' in front of his team. He'd already requested more than once that she not do that but Doris always somehow 'forgot'. It always made him cringe when she slipped.

He'd also warned his team that if anyone _ever_ addressed him that way, he'd assign every shitty, boring, duty that came-up and even make up some of his own - possibly into the next century. The list would include stake-outs in overheated cars, searches through dumpsters, trips to the morgue and whatever else he could think of.

Not really sure their boss wasn't kidding, somehow, they all managed to control themselves – even Danny.

Steve, noticing Cujo wasn't around as usual when food was in the offing asked of the people gathered around the take-out containers on the breakroom table, "Anyone seen Cujo? He's usually around when we have food here."

As Danny, Chin and Kono all answered that they hadn't, Doris spoke up. "Oh, you mean the little cat?"

"Yeah, the only cat in the building Mom." answered Steve trying not to show his agitation. Doris already knew about the animal; he'd spoken of Cujo before. Right now, because she was temporarily staying with him, Cujo had been staying at the office. He didn't trust either one of them to not have 'issues' with the other and didn't want to witness what could be mutual annihilation.

"He was just here before you came back. Maybe he's in someone's office?" said Doris without blinking.

"As long as no one let him out." said her son studying Doris for any sign of deception.

"I didn't let him out. Don't worry." she smiled to the others, "Stevie's little kitty has to be around here somewhere."

Danny almost snorted a Mountain Dew through his nose but coughed to hide it as Steve directed the 'glare of death' toward him. The cousins already knew better, there wasn't a peep out of them though Kono did take that moment to say, "I'll go look for him boss" as she set down her plate and jumped up to stride quickly toward the hallway. Chin, always the epitome of calm in the storm, only looked on serenely as he took another bite of his spring roll.

Steve, now _really_ cranky, left right after his mother said her goodbyes as his team thanked her for lunch. He told them he wanted to see if Max had come up with anything after examining the bodies. Though he knew it would only take a phone call to get the info; he wanted to get away from the office for a while. Danny was going to have a hard time letting the 'Stevie's little kitty' thing go. It was best to get out of earshot for the moment before he had to follow through on his threat or just fucking choke someone.

…

_Someone_ had somehow_ accidentally_ locked him into the supply room.

After a brief search, Kono had discovered Cujo asleep on top of the big sack of cat chow they kept stored there. Either out of boredom or actual hunger, the cat had chewed his way through a corner of the bag and had apparently eaten himself into a kibble coma. There was also a very large hole chewed in the economy sized plastic bag of Meowie Wowie catnip. Bits of it were scattered over the floor among paperclips, staples, copy paper, ink cartridges, rubberbands, pens, pencils and threading through all of it was what seemed miles of unrolled toilet tissue.

"Just how high did you get?!" asked Kono in amazement at surveying the chaos as the little cat blinked at her sleepily. "I'd better let you out so you can get to your water dish. You must have an epic case of cotton mouth." It was hard to believe such a small animal could cause such a huge mess but with Cujo, it wasn't all that farfetched. Laughing, she released him from his rather comfy confinement.

An hour later Cujo cautiously peeked out from behind the water cooler. Seeing the coast was clear, the little feline strolled out as though he'd never run like his tail was on fire. The first skirmish hadn't ended in his favor. _That tall woman was tough!_

"So, you little wuss." began Danny as he spotted the furry figure trotting out to the middle of the office. "Looks like you finally came across someone you can't con or intimidate huh. How does it feel?"

The sleek animal eyed him carefully trying to decide if he should bother to show the loud man who rules the office in the tall man's absence. He knew his human wasn't around to stop him. It could be fun.

Danny, recognizing the look that might signal the evil little wolverine was going to do something he wouldn't like, began to back his way out of the room before walking to his office and quickly shutting the door behind him. He'd gotten as good at reading the cat's face as he was at reading his partner's. It was a survival skill.

It was good to have warning as to whether to duck, buckle-up, hang on for dear life or run like hell. The first three actions were usually triggered by his nut job of a partner, the last one much too regularly by the Spawn of Satan who now patrolled the hallway.

The detective, double checking to make sure the door was securely closed, decided he could wait for Steve to return. He had a lot of reports to write.

…..

It was easy to observe the personnel and layout at this location. It was on the corner of a very busy intersection and its walls were large panes of glass on three sides. It was one of the newer branches and very popular because it sat at the edge of a large business park.

Actually, it had been ridiculously easy to observe them all from close-up. One could easily blend in with the others in the long queue in front of the register. No one pays attention. The baristas smile and dispense their lattes and mochas. The patrons either leave immediately or sit with their laptops, tablets, I-phones and sometimes, though it was becoming more unusual as time went on, even actual books made of sheets of printed and bound paper. It wasn't a bad gig. The house roast was actually decent even if too expensive.

There would have to be more care taken with this one. The business park setting provided a bit of a challenge as there would be people about at almost any hour. It could be done though. Sometimes a challenge was fun.

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**Next chapter should be posted within a week. Probably not in the next update but whump coming up soon for all you junkies out there.**


	3. Pastiche

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 3

**Okay, here's the next. It's a bit shorter but it seemed a good place to end this chapter. Imaginary Beta gave this a very quick once-over. Perhaps between her and spell check nothing too egregious escaped to wreck the story.**

**Sincere thanks for your comments, follows and favorites. Loved hearing from you and hope you recognize your input in this and following chapters. If I can't seem to please the entirely unpleaseable ninja cats, perhaps I can do a better job with you guys. At least you all don't insist on sitting on the keyboard while I'm trying to write.**

**Disclaimer: Writing this for the hell of it. No money being made. Don't own anything but a couple of mangy cats, (okay, okay, I realize it's the other way around).**

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Pastiche

The sun had set in its normally spectacular way several hours ago and though it was near midnight, the warm breeze that blew through the Camaro was soft and fragrant. Tired and frustrated, they'd called it a night. Danny rolled his eyes at his partner before eyeing the animal clinging to the dashboard.

Tonight, Danny was actually driving his own car after refusing to have the saber-toothed time-bomb directly under his nose as they made their way to McGarrett's house so he could drop off his passengers. The little animal was now too large to ride on the cowling over the steering wheel but he could still securely cling to the dash on the passenger side - which was his preferred method of travel. The faster the better. The furry buzzsaw's last name wasn't McGarrett for nothing.

"Tell me again why your wolverine has to accompany us?" asked Danny, not allowing himself to relax one iota until the cat was out of the car and he, himself, was safely on his way home to crawl into his own bed to become dead to the world. At least until it started all over again tomorrow, err make that later today.

"That maintenance guy, Bob, has to polish the floors overnight at H.Q. for the next couple nights and he's afraid of Cujo. He asked if I could take him home with me until he's done."

"Gee, I wonder why anyone would be afraid of 'Stevie's little kitty'?" snarked Danny, taking his life in his hands to even utter the phrase.

"What did I tell you about using that name huh!" growled Steve actually amazed that Danny would even go there. "You choosing to ignore the warning? What did I tell you?"

"You said that if we addressed you as 'Stevie', the wrath of SuperSEAL would be upon us and we'd be pulling 'shit duty' - or whatever they call it in the Army." replied Danny; not the least bit intimidated by the glare that could probably melt glass at this point.

Ignoring the 'Army' remark Steve countered, "Staking out a coffee shop from an overheated parking lot is in your near future . . . just so you know."

"Uh uh. I didn't address _you_ that way; I was talking about El Gato del Diablo and even if you did make him an official member of Five-0, he doesn't outrank me. Plus he's only a stupid cat and he doesn't have the authority to order me to stake out so much as a mouse hole." smiled Danny in unknowingly mistaken triumph.

"Yeah, well, I know where you live. Maybe Detective C.D. McGarrett will be making a visit."

"If your grey mamba gets within a mile of my place, you'd better have picked out his coffin or shoe box or whatever already. I will take no prisoners."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure he won't either.

"What are you gonna do when Cujo and your mom are in the same living space together? That's pretty scary."

"What do you mean? Cujo isn't scary."

"Wasn't talking about the cat."

"Are you saying my mom is scary?"

"Babe, everyone says your mom is scary."

…..

It was going to be a hot one today. The sun blasted down from the cloudless sky and Danny could already feel the sweat dampening the back of his neck.

Steve grimly gripped the wheel of the Silverado as they steered their way to murder scene number one. The meeting with Denning had gone as predicted. Steve stood mutely as the man unloaded on him about the slow progress made on the coffee shop murders.

There really wasn't anything much to tell. They'd only been on it for two days and none of their theories had as yet yielded any results.

"Commander, the State of Hawaii can't afford this. With the current state of the economy, every tourist dollar counts. If people think that coming here is tantamount to a trip to Kabul, it's going to seriously affect the pocketbooks of our citizens!"

Steve tried to listen to the tirade, really he did, but he'd entirely too much practice in blocking out what he considered unnecessary verbiage. He knew the governor was too savvy to give any ultimatums. If Five-0, the best investigative team in the state if not most of the rest of the country, couldn't find the killer in only a little over forty-eight hours; there weren't many who can. Steve had already spoken to one of the FBI's profilers – a personal friend – and had already emailed the files to her. He expected a reply from her by tonight.

He figured his job at this moment was to provide a 'tension target' for the head of the State of Hawaii. It wouldn't solve the case any sooner but it would make Denning feel that he'd exercised his authority to make something happen. Steve wondered who was putting the screws to the man. _Probably the head of the coffee shop chain,_ he thought. Oh well, shit runs downhill. Unfortunately, he was somewhere near the bottom of the slope.

…..

The slanting afternoon sun glared through the windshield as they made their way crosstown. Traffic was heavy at this hour and it didn't improve the mood of the vehicle's occupants, its driver in particular.

Both Steve and Danny were silent as they mulled over the minimal amount of information gleaned from, once again, going over what they knew so far about the now four 'Macchiato Murders'.

Always the first one to speak, this time being no exception, the blonde detective began: "There doesn't seem to be anything consistent about these murders. It's an entire pastiche of things."

"Pastiche?"

"Yeah, Steven, it means . . . "

The SEAL still very much annoyed from his meeting with Denning or to be honest, _being ripped a new one_, said testily "I know what it means Daniel! Why are you using it? Word of the Day again?"

"I'm expanding your vocabulary, you know with words that aren't: angle, trajectory, caliber . . . "

"You forgot velocity." growled Steve who was in no mood for one of his partner's rants. Right now it wouldn't be the least bit entertaining.

Ignoring the SEAL's ill temper, the blonde huffed, "Someone has to see to your education. I'm sure you're very well-versed in whatever it takes to invade small countries singlehandedly armed with only rubber bands and popsicle sticks but after being your partner for three terrifying years, I've come to the conclusion it's also my job to make you fit to live in the normal world - you know, the one that doesn't usually require hand grenades."

"Wow. Did you even take a breath in there anywhere?" spat McGarrett sarcastically.

"You didn't even absorb anything I said, did you?" huffed Danny

"Sure I did. I just sort of filtered out the bullshit . . . which was pretty much all of it."

…

The second location was still cordoned off by the ominous yellow crime scene tape. The door was locked which was no problem for SuperSEAL ignoring his partner's tirade about B & E's. A few seconds after producing a paperclip from one of his numerous pockets and a small nearly silent metallic click - they were in.

"You know, we could just have waited for someone, like maybe the person who actually has the key, to let us in don't you?"

"Why do we have to wait? Didn't need a key. I got us in didn't I?"

"Yes, you did; and I admire your restraint this time. See, you _are_ trainable."

"What the hell are you talking about now?"

"You didn't kick the door in, didn't pick the lock with a bullet, and didn't even blow it open with a grenade. Good boy."

Steve only paused long enough to give him a withering glare as he proceeded into the shop. The blood, now dried to a dark purple brown, was still there on the floor. The clichéd but still used chalk outline where a body had lain was still visible as were the dark smudges of fingerprint powder on nearly every surface.

The vignettes of fading crimes were always so desolate thought Steve. In the military, it was just go in, do what needed to be done and then get out. He hadn't had that much experience with the vision of law enforcement's leavings. Of course, going into a bombed out village was desolation on a whole different scale but this was a more contained and intimate kind of desolation . . . kind of creepy.

They got to work. Chin and Kono entered a short time later. Steve assigned Kono to the storeroom to see if anything was amiss there. Danny was busy checking things out behind the counter and Chin had the seating area. Steve briefly checked the restrooms before standing back and running things through his mind from a more distant vantage.

Standing near the entrance, he pictured the patrons entering the shop and striding toward the counter to place their orders. He saw them getting their mochas, lattes and macchiatos from the other end of the counter . . . THE ONE WHERE YOU PICKED UP THE CUPS THAT HAD YOUR NAME WRITTEN ON THEM!

….

_He watched the tall female carefully as she went to the box on the table in front of the glass that had the other cat in it – the cat that had no smell. She opened the box and took something out._

_The thing was fascinating. It dangled and sparkled as she fastened it to her ear._

_HE HAD TO HAVE IT!_

_She smiled at the other female who looked back from the glass and touched the other sparkly thing on the metal string around her neck before turning to go to the room with water in it._

_She left the box open._

_He immediately jumped on top of the long table and cautiously approached the box of wonderful things._

"Hey!" she yelled startling him in the middle of his investigation, "Get away from there cat!"

He hissed at her and then reluctantly scrambled off the dresser to scoot under the bed. Doris shut the lid of her jewelry box, fluffed her hair one more time and went downstairs.

As soon as she had gone, Cujo jumped back onto the dresser top. _The box of shiny things was closed. Rats!_

…

"Really?" said Danny as with gloved hands he picked through the eighteenth bag of trash in the dumpster behind the building. This one was really ripe and he quickly set it aside as he recognized it was from the seafood restaurant next door.

"Told you, no calling me Stevie big guy."

"You're such an asshole."

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?"

After two hours of sorting through the three simmering dumpsters behind the strip mall and lining up the empty white paper cups with the names marked on them with a Sharpie pen, they had several different stacks.

"Who in the hell names their daughter Desiree?" said Danny to no one in particular as annoying beads of sweat rolled off his face to drip off the end of his nose. "That's just asking for it." he said as he bent to place the last cup by itself next to the various stacks of Davids, Heathers, Jasons and etcetera.

Steve wrote the names down on a legal pad under the heading of 'Location No. 1' as Danny removed his gloves and ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair.

"Okay, let's bag these up and get to scene number three." said Steve as Danny gave the tall man his own version of the glare of death.

"Do we think that this time we can _also_ climb into the dumpster to help search, oh big kahuna?" said the detective with a more than slightly irritated tone.

"Depends. You gonna call me Stevie again?"

"You know what . . . .! " exploded Danny before he bit off the end of the sentence and took a deep breath before acknowledging defeat, "Okay . . . you win . . . no, I won't call you Stevie."

"Then I'll help you search the next dumpster." said Steve more than smugly. He'd actually been ready to call a truce and climb in with Danny on the next one.

"You're still an ass."

"I'm still the boss too. But okay, I think you've done your penance." he laughed as Danny, redonning his gloves while mumbling under his breath, tied up the last of the white plastic trash bags containing the paper cups and walked to the Silverado to toss them into the back

_At least we didn't bring the Camaro_, sourly thought the detective.

"If it makes you feel any better, D; Chin and Kono are doing the same thing at the second site. We're going to have to go to all three. I checked with the trash collecting companies and pick-up hasn't been made yet for any of the three locations."

"Steven, what makes you think the killer would use their real name anyway? Isn't that just wishful thinking?"

"Well, weirder things have happened. From your years as a 'real' cop", said Steve stressing the word ironically, (he knew HPD still considered him an outsider to law enforcement – and he is actually), haven't you seen perps do stupid things like that?"

"Yeah" smiled Danny in fond remembrance, "There was the time one guy used his own ATM card to buy a 40 at his neighborhood liquor store then stuck a gun in the clerk's face to hold it up." he chuckled. "That was the fastest bust I ever made."

"Well, maybe we'll get lucky with this one, though I kind of doubt it. I mean, the killer's pretty savvy not to have been spotted yet but maybe even if the name on the cup isn't his or hers, maybe they've used the same pseudonym at all the murders."

"Pseudonym?" smiled Danny "You've actually been doing your homework this semester Steven. Good boy."

"I hope the next sets of dumpsters haven't been sitting directly in the sun this time." remarked Steve as he opened the door of the Silverado and climbed in. "Gonna be really nasty in there if they have."

"Son of a bitch" muttered Danny as he brushed off only God-knew-what from the seat of his pants before settling in the truck on top of the towel Steve had placed on the passenger's seat.

….

Hours later, they'd finally gotten back to the air-conditioned office. At least there were showers available to the sweaty, dirty, Five-0's and they quickly took advantage of them.

The names on the cups had been tallied and there were at least a couple that had been repeated at all three locations. There was a lot more work to do.

The blonde, barefoot and now attired in a T-shirt borrowed from Steve's collection and a pair of board shorts he'd left in his locker a couple of weeks ago, casually leaned against the doorframe.

"What do you mean leashes aren't funny?" asked Danny

"What? What are you talking about?" said Steve distractedly as he signed another requisition for ammunition and stun grenades, (the previous week had been a busy one).

"Earlier, when we talked about you and Cath reproducing."

Startled, the tall man looked up at his grinning 2IC.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked sharply, brows knitted in annoyance, 'aneurism face' on display.

"Remember when I said your offspring - should you have any with Cath - would have to be put on leashes to keep them from hyperactively running off at a moment's notice – you know, like you do?"

Steve only stared at him a moment before saying in irritation, "Don't you have paperwork to do?"

"Done." grinned Danny with a self-satisfied smirk.

"How about cleaning your weapon? And I don't mean it as a euphemism for anything." said the irritated SEAL knowing his partner could twist his statement into any number of salacious meanings – especially considering his current lack of female companionship.

Ignoring the tempting opening, the detective innocently asked, "You trying to get rid of me?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Is it about leashes?"

Steve stopped his paper shuffling to give him 'the glare' before growling, "Not that I don't admire your persistence Daniel but GET OUT!"

"Hmm" said the blonde with a grin, not the least bit intimidated, "Don't think I'm gonna give this up McGarrett. You've got some sort of issue there and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

"The only thing you're going to get to the bottom of is the Pacific Ocean if you don't drop it Danny" scowled the now more than thoroughly annoyed commander.

"Um hmm, definitely an issue there somewhere." With that, the detective dodged the five-hundred page weapons catalog that came sailing at his head. His laughter trailed behind him as the sound of his bare feet slapping on the granite tile faded down the hallway.

_Shit! If Danny ever finds out about that I'll never live it down! He'll make my life hell! _With that thought, Steve picked up the phone to call Doris.

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**Next chapter in about a week. Apologies for not being a speedier writer. It's the best I can do.**

**Remember that reviews are very very much appreciated. Maybe not as much a chocolate but it's close.**


	4. Suppositions

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 4

**Sorry it took so long to get this posted. Seem to have lost my mojo. It's also a shorter chapter than usual but the next should make up for it.**

**Thank you for your reviews and comments. I dearly love to get your opinions and try to incorporate some of your wonderful ideas into the story. Mistakes are all those of Imaginary Beta. What a nitwit.**

**Disclaimer: If fame and fortune were my goals; I've failed miserably. Shall have to be content with daydreams of beautiful beaches and the even more beautiful creatures that grace them.**

**NOTE: A segment was added after this was first posted to correct an error. Thank you to JazzieG for pointing it out.**

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Suppositions

Danny watched his daughter walk back and forth thru the office; Cujo dangling compliantly in her arms like a velvety rag doll.

He shook his head in amazement. The cat could be so sweet with certain people, yet do his best to obliterate others. Over time, he'd learned Gracie could do pretty much what she wanted with the feisty feline and the animal would only purr; seemingly happy for the attention. Danny had been terrified to let his daughter even get close to the land dwelling barracuda before realizing Cujo was perfectly content to have Grace drag him around like another of her toys.

His current hypothesis was one of gender. Cujo was well-behaved and even affectionate with Kono, Cath, Gabby, Max's girlfriend Punani and of course Grace but the little asshole only seemed to tolerate males. When he voiced the theory to the team, he made sure to add that Steve only got a free pass with the pint sized puma because the two were from the same home planet. Either that or it was just professional courtesy between two lethal animals.

That supposition had been blown all to hell when Doris showed up. Cujo growled and hissed at her on a regular basis. Well, let's face it, he'd hiss at her too but Steve would kick his ass.

From Danny's observation; Doris was only motherly in a perfunctory sort of way. _It was as though she'd read the manual and decided to ignore most of it._

Hmm, now that he thought of it, maybe McGarrett did inherit something from his mom other than height and physical attractiveness.

He'd never had opportunity for much interaction with Steve's dad; the man had been killed shortly after Danny had signed on with HPD but maybe it was John McGarrett who'd passed on the recessive and so carefully hidden 'warm fuzzy' gene. There wasn't much evidence it had come from Doris. The detective had always assumed it was the female who contributed such a trait to their offspring. Though he knew Steve's father was known as a tough sort, the real badassery had to come from Doris. The woman was scary.

…..

There hadn't been another murder for the last several days. They plunged doggedly on in their investigation; the governor breathing down their necks the entire time.

That call to Kiki Kenworthy was still a puzzler. From the timing, it had to have come just before or just after the shootings. Chin had already tracked the pings from the cell towers in the area. As expected, it had come from a burner phone.

"Why would the killer choose to notify the media this time and not the others?" mused Steve as he and Danny sat going over the case for the umpteenth time at a ridiculously late hour to still be at work. Many hours ago, Rachel had flounced in and picked up Gracie to take her home to bed. Though it wasn't something he usually did, Danny had elected to take his daughter to work with him rather than miss her company entirely. Grace was always more than content to spend time at HQ where she received the intermittent attention of her favorite aunts and uncles and played with Cujo, drew or played games on her Hello Kitty laptop. Danny was actually surprised that Step Stan hadn't yet given her a tablet. He actually wouldn't mind if his daughter had one, he just drew the line at ponies.

Stretching and looking at his watch; startled at the hour displayed there, the detective said, "Maybe the murderer got a taste of notoriety and wants to bask in its glow." He held his hands up fingers spread in a sort of jazz-hands gesture to illustrate the word 'glow'.

Steve didn't even seem to notice his partner's physical presentation of the verbal as he downed the last of his cold, sludgy coffee. Not planning on staying this late, the last pot had been made hours ago. Chin and Kono had called it quits and left an hour before. Steve said he'd be right behind them but he and Danny found themselves once again going over what they'd so far discovered – which was pretty much nothing.

"Come on big guy, time to blow this pop stand. The last train is leaving the station and if you're not on it, you are doomed to spend the night with your wolverine. We're in my car; remember?"

"I've had worse company." said McGarrett with a faint smile as he reached to shut off the desk lamp and pick up the coffee cups to take them back to the break room to wash them. "Where is Cujo? I haven't seen him for a couple hours."

"I'm sure he's busy waterboarding a mouse somewhere." said Danny dismissively, "Just leave the damn cups and let's get the hell out of here. I want to get to bed before it's actually time to get up. You can drive your own ass to work tomorrow. I'm going to need that extra ten minutes of sleep that I usually sacrifice to come pick you up in the mornings."

Steve frowned at the coffee mugs he'd picked up off the desk and then sighing; set them back down on its surface. "Let me just make sure Cujo's squared away and then we'll leave."

Danny knew it was going against every grain of his partner's OCD nature to leave dirty cups behind. It only testified to how tired he must be. He reluctantly tagged along on the search for the barracuda. The sooner they found him the sooner they'd get out of here.

They discovered the evil little furball curled contentedly on Chin's desk. Remnants of what had been a large and very unfortunate lizard strewn about him.

"Chin's not gonna be happy about having to clean that up." observed Danny.

"Just leave it. Cujo will probably finish off the rest by the time we get in tomorrow." sighed Steve as he ran his hand through his short hair and made a face at the carnage.

"You really must be tired to leave a mess like that. How can he eat that? That's disgusting." grumbled his partner.

"So's all that greasy stuff you eat."

"At least I don't eat stuff I have to chase down and kill before I rip it to shreds and eat it raw."

"Not so far anyway but I've seen you come pretty close when you haven't had lunch."

"Bite me asshole." responded Danny; too tired to put any real venom into it.

"Got Cujo for that." was the almost automatic reply

With that they shut off the lights and called it a night.

…..

The next couple days yielded nothing more. They'd run down everything they could think of and come up with zilch. It was boringly quiet.

The only excitement had been when Doris called in a panic to say that Cujo had 'mysteriously' gotten out and she couldn't catch him. Steve and Kono had taken a quick run to the McGarrett home and rounded him up to bring him back to the office. For the meantime, until Doris found her own place, Cujo's home was H.Q. while she was there.

The final tally on the paper cups had yielded four repeated names from each location: Jason, Jim, Bob and Sarah. So, other than noting people's lack of originality in naming their children, they still weren't any closer to finding the killer.

They were no nearer to solving the case than they'd been after the first murder. The perpetrator hadn't again contacted anyone in the media but, of course, Kiki Kenworthy was milking the one call for all it was worth.

_When you can't find any news to report, just make it about yourself_, sourly thought the Five-0 leader as they sat taking a brief lunch break. Danny had flipped the TV on to watch the local station.

Ms. Kenworthy was there in all her overly-groomed glory; looking so very seriously into the lens and speculating on the motive and identity of the murderer. Her hair and makeup, as usual, were flawless. He tried to grab the remote away from Danny to change to another channel but his partner just snatched it away and sat raptly staring at the screen.

"She called me you know." he said to the small group gathered at the table without taking his eyes off the reporter.

"What!" exclaimed Steve in annoyance.

"That reporter called _you_?" asked Kono in amazement.

"Yeah, what's so surprising about that?" asked Danny in a defensive tone.

"Not that you're not hot or anything Danny. . . but . . ." stammered Kono

"See, even Kono thinks I'm hot." exclaimed the blonde to his partner who only stared at him with a look of irritation.

Snarked her cousin, "Brah, Kono thinks Justin Bieber is hot."

"Do not! He's just a baby. I don't rob cradles." squeaked Kono

"So?" asked Steve, ignoring the sleek Hawaiian woman's indignation.

"So? What?" was Danny's reply, a smug expression on his face.

"You gonna take her up on it? That's playing with fire man."

"Haven't decided yet."

Just then, a grey blur came streaking across the table.

Without even bothering to react to the animal's sudden frantic appearance, Steve calmly said, "Doris must be here."

...

At eight o'clock, Danny became uneasy. At eight-fifteen, he became worried. Picking up his phone, he tapped number one on his speed dial and waited for his tardy partner to pick up the phone. It rang four times then rolled over to voice mail.

"Hey moron! Where the hell are you? You're late! Would be nice to let us know if you're still alive." was the message he left.

Steve, when he drove himself in, was usually here before anyone else but Danny supposed it was still too early to actually be worried. The Neanderthal could have just stopped off somewhere on the way in this morning - you know, for gas or another tattoo or something. Why was he worrying about SuperSEAL? He was certainly someone who could take care of himself. Still, Danny was concerned because he knew that, even with all his craziness, the guy was punctual to a fault. He was pretty much always on time and if he couldn't be, he'd call to let them know.

After dialing Steve's land line and getting no answer, then trying his cell again with the same result, Danny walked up to Chin and Kono who were standing at the smart table and drinking coffee while going over information about the case.

"You guys hear from our fearless leader?"

"Umm no, I thought maybe he'd left word with you that he's going to be late." said Kono who glanced at her cousin on the other side of the table.

"Not a word brah. Should we be worried? It's only like eight-twenty."

"You know how he is, he's never late. When you look in the dictionary under the terms 'punctual' and 'obsessive-compulsive' you're gonna find his picture."

Chin chuckled, "Yeah for someone who can cause such chaos, he's pretty much got it together in his own way. Maybe Cujo got out again and he's tracking him down. That's what made him late last time."

"Yeah, but he still called us, remember? He'd said something about chasing something down. We didn't' find out it was that evil little snake until Steve got here all banged up and we forced it out of him."

"You mean until we noticed he was limping and had grass stains on his ass." laughed Kono

"Well he looked the worse for wear and we weren't on a case or anything. I know he can get into crap all on his own and when you add in his alter ego that fur bearing time bomb . . . !" Danny didn't even have to finish the sentence. The cousins were very aware of the trouble their boss and his 'not my pet' could get into.

"Why don't we wait another half hour and if he doesn't show up or call, we'll go check out his house?" suggested Chin knowing that the haole detective would worry himself into a coronary if they waited any longer than that.

Danny nodded and went back to his office where he did nothing but stare at the clock.

….

It hurt. When he put his hand to the side of his head, he could feel the lump forming and his hand came away wet and sticky.

He opened his eyes to see the ceiling; a familiar one. He lay there a moment trying to remember where he'd seen it before. Suddenly there appeared two yellow eyes staring down at him. They were looking over the edge of something over his head.

_What the fuck?_

He was too tired to investigate it right now. It seemed like a good idea to sleep a while longer. He'd think about it later.

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**Some of you had requested I bring back characters from the first two adventures of the wolverine and his colleagues. A few of them will be making appearances in the upcoming chapters. See – I actually do listen to you guys!**

**Next update will be longer . . . and sooner. Really sorry it took so long to crank this one out. Will do better with the next.**

**Reviews and comments are like fertilizer on withered grass . . . wait . . . that didn't come out the right way.**


	5. Not the Fun Kind of Pot

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 5

**Here's the next. Hope you like. Thank you for your reviews, alerts and favorites which are invaluable in helping me get back into the groove. Sorry it's taking so long. As always; mistakes can be blamed on Imaginary Beta.**

**Disclaimer: Am not making any money from this. If I was, I'd be in Hawaii and probably doing some serious stalking. I'm sure I'd manage to have fun until the restraining order was issued.**

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Not the Fun Kind of Pot

"You have something to do with this?" he accused the animal staring at him curiously from a few feet away. He scrunched his eyes shut as the one cat morphed into what seemed an entire herd of them and his stomach threatened to jettison his breakfast.

His head was pounding as he slowly sat up; trying to gather his wits and remember how he'd wound up on his kitchen floor.

"Steve!"

"McGarrett!"

"Boss!"

He heard three distinct voices from the direction of the front door but turning his head to see his visitors didn't seem to be all that great an idea right now.

Three sets of shoes clattered across the floor and three sets of feet, ankles, and legs came to stand in front of him. He didn't dare raise his eyes to look for faces. Feet and legs were good enough for now.

"What the hell?" exclaimed a voice that had to belong to Danny._ Who else would wear patent leather loafers in Hawaii?_

"Danny?" he managed to croak out as he pressed his hands over his face hoping to stop the feeling that the floor was undulating beneath him.

"Of course it's me. Who else would come look for your sorry ass?" _Yup, Danny for sure._

When his hands were tugged away from where he'd clamped them; through the blur he saw pale eyes and a worry creased brow as his partner bent to peer more closely. Soon, another set of eyes were examining him; these were dark and quite lovely. _Must be the rookie._

"Kono?"

"Yeah boss. What the hell?" _Yup, Kono._

He groaned and began to struggle to his feet but hands pushed him back down and held him there by pressing on his shoulders.

"I don't think getting up right now is a good idea Boss." said Kono, "You look kinda like you did that time you got run over when you were chasing that perp."

"Not that I'm curious or anything but just how did you manage to crash onto and bleed all over your kitchen floor?" queried the blonde man.

"'m bleedin'?"

"Yeah moron, that red stuff dripping down your neck is a good indication you are." was his partner's rough answer; worry making him sound angry, "Kono, could you grab a towel so we can keep Rambo here from making such a mess?" then addressing the man on the floor, "You know; if you wanted the day off, you could've just said so. How the hell did this happen? Did someone break in?"

During this time, Cujo had been nervously pacing up and down the counter top and making worried little chirping noises. Danny knew Steve had stopped even trying to keep him off the countertops; it was a lost cause.

"Dunno . . . doin' stuff before s'time to leave . . . umm . . . woke up on the floor. Head hurss . . . Bleedin'?" he asked; speech not quite as clear as he'd heard it in his own mind for some reason.

"You've got a goose egg the size of Detroit on the back of your head and another small one on your temple along with a nasty cut and, since that's the second time you've asked me the same question in the last ten seconds, I'd say you've got a concussion as a bonus." answered Danny, alarmed at the slurred words and short-term memory issues.

"You're gonna at least need stitches Boss." exclaimed Kono, concern evident in her voice as well.

"'m fine." muttered McGarrett closing his eyes as the trip on the merry-go-round seemed to gather speed.

"Yeah sure, says the idiot who can't focus his eyes long enough to keep them open." - _obviously Danny again._

"I don't see anything amiss. All the doors and windows are secure. We disabled the alarm ourselves when we came in." It was Chin's voice this time; coming from a little farther away and becoming louder as he entered the room. Steve could sense he'd kneeled or crouched before him with the others.

"How's our boy? Looks like he went a round with a crowbar." observed the Hawaiian detective.

"Alive but knocked stupid apparently. He's asked the same question twice in the last two minutes. Let's get SuperSEAL off the floor so we can see the extent of his owies." ordered the blonde.

"Don' have owies." Steve mumbled indignantly as he was tugged upward to sway precariously before a chair was shoved behind his knees and he plopped gracelessly onto it; his landing not as controlled as he would have liked. The jarring didn't do his already scrambled brain any favors. He could feel something dripping down the side of his face onto his neck before what felt like a towel was pressed over his right ear.

"Boss, you're gonna need stitches for sure. You've got a nasty cut there." Kono exclaimed; her cousin concurring with a murmur of his own.

It didn't seem like a good idea to open his eyes again. Getting his brain to reconcile multiple images of what he knew to be only three people was nauseating.

"Hey, Rambo! Look at me!" demanded Danny as Steve felt fingers under his chin to get him to tilt his head upward.

"Seen you before D. Wasn' pretty." he mumbled, stubbornly refusing to crack his eyelids.

"Open your eyes moron. We have to see if your marbles have stopped rolling around. If they haven't, an ambulance ride is imminent."

"No 'mblance" he declared, the word not quite coming out the way he'd intended.

"Uh huh." said Danny dismissively. "I said open your eyes. Now!"

Steve opened one eye cautiously; startled at his partner's face only inches from his own. "What the fuck D! Back off!" He jerked backward as Danny grabbed both sides of his face to peer into unfocused hazel-blue eyes.

"Hold still. I'm checking your pupils dammit!"

"I like you Danny but not in that way." groused the nauseous and dizzy man as multiples of his concerned partner now began to waver about before him.

"Shit. Your pupils definitely don't qualify you for the 'equal and reactive' round. You're going for a ride in the big white bus my friend."

"No, no hosp . . . hospital!" whined Steve whose complexion was taking on a distinctly greenish cast as Kono grabbed his arm to keep him from toppling from the chair.

"Too late Boss. Already on the way."

Sirens sounded faintly in the distance and grew louder with their approach.

"You wanna try again to tell us what happened? And don't you dare ralph on me!" exclaimed Danny still sounding concerned but less angry.

"Umm . . . was gettin' stuff out from the cupboards to pack for my mom's new place and . . . . ow!" he yelped as his fingers began to explore his battered skull and Kono slapped his hand away.

"There's a big, heavy, cast iron pot lying on the floor over here." said Chin from the other side of the kitchen island. "Looks like it probably rolled a ways after it hit the floor. I can see the dent where it landed. Lid's still set on the counter."

Cujo has been worriedly pacing up and down the long stone table as the familiar humans appeared to be helping the tall man. He knew something was wrong. It was such a strange time take a nap and his human never slept on the floor. It made the little cat anxious. _Who knew that big metal thing would fall off the table when he jumped into it?_

….

The trip to the hospital was mostly uneventful. As expected, stitches were required and the diagnosis of a concussion was confirmed. Also as expected, Steve threatened to dismember anyone who tried to keep him from leaving.

"For once! Just for once could you not make my life hell?!" groused Danny in a too familiar rant as he so very reluctantly handed his partner the bloodied shirt to slip on over his now bandaged head.

"Not making your life hell. I'm the one who got conked on the head!"

"Not hard enough. If you were unconscious, there'd be no question you'd spend the night. Now, I'm once again expected to wrangle your ass for the next twenty-four hours to make sure you don't go into a coma. How is my life not hell?"

"Didn't ask you to 'wrangle my ass' Danny. I can take care of myself!"

"Yeah, you were doing such a good job of it too."

"How was I to know Cujo was going to try to kill me with that cast iron pot?"

"Come on, he's tried to off everyone else. It was just your turn."

"Well, I know he didn't mean it."

"How do you know? He's capable of planning all sorts of mayhem. Have you searched him for explosives?"

"Funny."

"Only to you Cat Lady."

"Where are Chin and Kono?"

"They bailed as soon as they heard you were going to be released but only if you had a babysitter."

"Told you, don't need a . . . "

"Yeah uh huh. Stop whining. Why don't you just do what the other kids do? Hold your breath until you turn blue?"

"Bite me."

"You've got Cujo for that."

…

With Steve down for at least the next day, (longer if he followed doctor's orders but good luck with that), and Danny on SEAL wrangling duty, Chin and Kono were left to do the investigating and answer the Governor's ceaseless phone calls for updates.

"Cuz, haoles sure have no originality with first names." groused Kono as she went through charge card records to match to the four common names on the cups they'd gathered.

Chin just laughed. With a native language consisting of only thirteen letters and words that have various meanings depending on context, he wasn't going to diss anyone else's culture.

"Just be glad we're no longer on dumpster duty Kono." he smiled, smooth face crinkling. "At least we had each other for company during that disgusting task. Danny had to go it on his own."

"Yeah, who knew Danny could come up with so many words to describe the boss?" laughed the slender young woman.

"Almost as many as he uses to describe Cujo."

"Think Danny's learned his lesson?"

"Doubt it. Next time he crosses Steve, we'll see what the boss can come up with."

"He usually seems so amused when Danny goes off on him. It seems to entertain him somehow but I guess this was just one of his buttons. If he can put up with that cat, he can put up with Danny."

"For someone who tolerates bullshit less than anyone I know, he sure seems to have a lot of patience with the two of them. Somehow, having Doris around seems to put him on edge a little more than usual."

"Not too hard to understand, the woman's not exactly the June Cleaver type."

"I wonder what the thing with the leash is about?"

"Danny tell you about that?"

"Yeah, says the boss has 'issues'."

"If Danny doesn't drop it, the issues are gonna be his and he'll be lucky if it's only dumpster diving next time."

"We'll have to rein the Jersey Boy in before he gets himself into trouble.

"Good luck with that."

"I don't just mean with the boss. I mean with that Kenworthy woman. She looks like bad news."

"Danny's a big boy."

"Yeah but Danny's a distracted boy right now. Gabby better get back here soon before he does something stupid."

"Maybe we could just hose him down with cold water?"

"Sounds like a plan."

….

The early morning crew hadn't yet arrived. The cool air held all the possibilities of another beautiful day. With the dim overnight illumination of the interior of the shop; there was just enough to do what needed to be done. Disabling the electronic surveillance system wasn't all that difficult.

Luckily, it was the exact same set-up as last time. There was nothing unexpected in the procedure. What was tricky was finding a window of opportunity. The adjacent business park had people coming and going at all hours. There were a couple of close calls as the stealthy trek across the parking lot from the cover of a tree covered hillside was interrupted by passersbye.

Quickly moving about the room and accomplishing the task; the only thing left to do was wait.

This was going to be the best one yet.

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**Your input helps guide the direction of the story. If left to my own devices, it would probably wander around like a guy who refuses to ask for directions.**

**Wanted this chapter to be longer but had to stop when caffeine induced palpitations kicked in. Did you know there's only so much coffee one can drink before passing out?**


	6. Uh Oh

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 6

**I know. Late again. Have run out of excuses but I do apologize. Thank you for your comments, follows and favorites. Would love to hear what you think of this chapter. You don't have to be nice if you don't want to.**

**Imaginary Beta is responsible for any errors. Would fire her but she's kinda sensitive.**

**Disclaimer: Still not making any money from this. I've become resigned to staying up all night doing this for no remuneration whatsoever. You'd think they could at least pay for a pound of French roast.**

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Uh-Oh

The night promised to be balmy as the sun began its descent and honeyed light flowed over the ocean like something warm and sweet.

"I shouldn't even be talking to you cat." said Steve as he tried not to smile at the purring animal that bumped against him trying to get his attention. Tiredly, he leaned back onto the wooden chaise on the lanai. His head was still pounding and his vision had only just begun to rid itself of multiple images of single objects.

The little cat had been trying to insinuate himself into his arms for the last five minutes and wouldn't give up because he knew if he kept at it, the tall man would eventually give in.

Cujo had been worried. After his human had been asleep on the floor and all of those others had gathered around him, they'd taken him away. He was worried he wouldn't come back. Sometimes the tall man was gone for many days and nights. He always waited for him. He didn't even mind sharing him with his human's female when he returned. Not most of the time anyway. He still didn't like it when they wouldn't open the door when he wanted to be let into the sleeping room. He still couldn't figure out why they did that sometimes. Maybe they couldn't hear him. He'd have to meow louder.

"Here, take this." was the order as Danny extended a bottle of water in one hand and pills in the palm of the other. Grumbling, Steve obediently held out his hand for the medication. Danny took his duties seriously and wouldn't let him slide on the pain pills and anti-nausea stuff.

"Why are you even letting that evil little monster close to you after what happened?" asked Danny in disgust as he sat down in the old wooden deck chair placed next to his friend, (cautious to leave enough space between himself and the barracuda). "I thought you two were buds."

"It was an accident Danny. He didn't do it on purpose." defended the man with the bandage on his head and a large purpling bruise on the side of his face.

"Only you could get knocked unconscious by a five-pound furball."

"No, I got knocked unconscious by a twenty-pound cast iron dutch oven."

"That's only the thing that caused the big knot on the back of your head. The stitches were made necessary when you faceplanted, no doubt gracefully, on the linoleum after managing to whack yourself on the cabinet door on the way down. You really are an overachiever."

Cujo finally managed to crawl onto Steve's chest and immediately began to lick at the side of his face. Danny cringed. For someone who was so OCD about other things, Steve had no problem whatsoever with cat germs. Who knew where that animal's mouth had been?

"You really want to let that rabid little badger that close to your jugular?"

"He won't hurt me."

"Says the man with what, twelve stitches in his head? You're also going to have a most spectacular display of rainbow colored bruises by tomorrow. You're only in the purple phase right now. Should graduate to blue and green by tomorrow. Lovely."

With a tired glare, Steve replied, "Again, Danny, he didn't do it on purpose. He probably just saw the pot and thought it was something interesting to explore."

His partner waived a dismissive hand before asking, "What the hell does anyone even need a sixty-pound dutch oven for?"

"Haven't the slightest fucking idea. You'll have to ask my mom." answered McGarrett; not responding to Danny's exaggeration of the weight of the thing that had bashed him on the head when it fell off the countertop as he rummaged in the cabinet below it. _It did feel like sixty-pounds though._

"She doesn't even cook!"

"Yeah, we all lucked out on that one at Thanksgiving."

"Can't be that bad."

"Remember your charcoal frittata?"

"How can I forget? You smothered it in flame retardant - not one of my favorite condiments I might add."

"As I said at the time, I put it out of its misery . . . anyway, that would make my mom's cooking seem like a meal at La Mer."

"Always wondered why you don't appreciate the finer culinary delicacies, like Jersey style pizza and malasadas."

"You are going to die of a massive food-induced coronary someday."

"Yeah but at least I'll have eaten something other than tree bark and wheat grass sundaes before I go. Oh, and don't' forget the edamame sprinkles. They make it really yummy."

The three sat companionably watching the last bands of light leave the sky before stars began their travels across the deep blue expanse.

…

At seven A.M. the next morning, Danny's cell rang. A hand snaked out from under the mound of blankets to feel around for the small device he'd left atop the coffee table in front of the couch on which he'd spent the night. It lay next to the nearly empty bowl of Cheetohs. Managing to knock the plastic container off the table to scatter bits of orange crumbs onto the carpet, the hand finally latched onto the small device and dragged it back under the covers.

"This better be the mother of all emergencies." he growled into the phone.

"Danny, there's been another murder." was the terse reply. "Can you leave Steve alone yet? We're gonna need your help."

"Yeah, of course Chin." replied Danny in a gravelly voice not yet accustomed to speech after the overnight lull and consuming what must have been the world's largest bag of neon colored snack food. He emerged from his cocoon to sit up and run a hand over his face. "Where is it this time?"

"Corner of Kaahumanu Street and Moanalua Road at the edge of the big business park. This one's really a mess."

"I'll just check on our fearless leader one last time and I'll be right there."

Struggling from under the blankets, he stood and let his back finish its noisy realignment before he crept silently up the stairs and pushed open the door that had been left ajar. Steve was sprawled on top of the covers and looked completely out of it. The little grey cat on the pillow next to him sat up and blinked at him sleepily. Throughout the night, the feline had been at Steve's side but hadn't given Danny any trouble when he woke the injured man periodically to check on his condition. He thought it odd the normally crazed wolverine seemed to somehow sense this wasn't the time to give him any shit but he wasn't gonna look a gift cat in the mouth.

Danny was about to tap Steve on the leg to wake him one last time when the SEAL mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over onto his side before resuming his soft breathing.

_Well, he's not dead._ thought Danny as he turned; leaving the door ajar for the cat. He went back downstairs to splash water on his face and get dressed. Thankfully, one of the stops made on the way to McGarrett's yesterday along with the one at the pharmacy was to go by his place to get fresh clothes for today. He ignored the shaving kit. It was only the second day of stubble and a smooth face wasn't one of his priorities. He rushed through his routine, not even taking the time to knot the tie he draped around his neck. He hadn't quite broken the habit of not feeling dressed until he had a strip of fabric knotted around his neck despite Steve's not so subtle persuasion of threatening to cut it off with that huge wicked looking SEAL knife of his.

He scribbled a hasty note and left it on the kitchen counter near the coffee pot. Last night, he'd set the timer to start the brewing cycle in about another hour.

He felt guilty for leaving Steve alone but other than an evil headache and an even more evil disposition the concussed man seemed okay when he went to bed last night and, though cranky, was coherent enough when awakened periodically as per the doctor's instructions.

Danny's eyes felt gritty as he squinted at the sheet of note paper; scribbling_ 'Dear Moron, Don't even try to make it to work today. I've taken both sets of your truck keys. STAY!'_

As he was leaving, Cujo came thundering down the stairs to find out what the activity was about. "For such a puny animal, you sure make a lot of noise." he whispered as the cat looked at him curiously. "Make sure the cat lady doesn't do anything stupid like try to leave." _Why am I talking to a cat? __Must be lack of sleep__, _decided the detective as he closed the door behind him and locked it.

…

This time, the blood had made it all the way out to the sidewalk. The first person to arrive for an early morning caffeine jolt had seen it trailing out from under the door and hadn't bothered to enter. Horrified by the sluggishly flowing stream, he'd pulled out his cell to frantically dial 911.

Chin and Kono were already taking statements from the bleary-eyed early morning caffeine seekers as the techs had begun to arrive with their boxes of equipment to process the scene.

Danny had no trouble locating the coffee shop. It sat right at the intersection and the huge floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the now busy street were blindingly lit with the crime scene investigator's work lights. Cars slowed as people on their way to an early start of their workday in the business park behind it craned their necks as they passed. That intrinsic yet no less annoying trait of human curiosity was causing traffic to back up on the tertiary street that turned into the park and he had to whoop the siren to get them to move out of the way.

Leaving the Camaro's blue lights blinking and parking behind Kono's Cruise, he emerged while muttering "nosy fucking imbeciles". He quickly made his way over the sidewalk to the glowing edifice still brighter than the dim and slowly waking morning sky behind it.

Seeing Danny arrive and the traffic snarl he must have had to drive through, Chin mused that if the gawkers could actually gaze on the gristly scene, many of them would have never made it all the way to work.

Danny entered the shop, carefully avoiding the rivulets of darkening blood that had flowed all the way across the room to the doorway. There were four bodies. They'd been lined up in front of the counter and looked to have been executed in an organized manner. Their hands had been bound behind their backs, they'd all been blindfolded and all had their throats cut.

…..

Steve awoke slowly. His head felt heavy as though covered by a thick woolen blanket. Of course, there was no such blanket but his senses were dulled and muted. Turning his head to the left, he saw the familiar yellow eyes staring back at him.

"Where's your favorite chew toy?" he croaked out, mouth feeling like that blanket had spent some time there as well. He slowly sat up and found that he was still dizzy but the room settled in one spot after another few moments. At least there was only one cat staring at him this time.

Stifling a groan, he moved quietly, not wanting to wake Danny who must still be asleep on the couch. He knew the man hadn't gotten much rest because of the required rousings of someone with a concussion and wanted to let his loyal friend sleep as long as possible.

Though his memory wasn't the best, he recalled leaving Danny on the couch and watching a football game; a huge bowl of cheese curls on his lap. After that, he was vaguely aware of his friend waking him every couple hours to check on him. He'd been feeling so crappy that he always fell back to sleep after answering questions designed to let his partner know he wasn't suffering from any dire aftereffects of the concussion. Wait a minute . . . was one of those questions _'Can I have a raise?'_ _Have to ask Danny about that_. He hoped he'd answered in the negative though the guy probably did deserve one for having to babysit all night.

He went to take a shower as his furry companion followed him. Picking up the little cat and depositing him outside the bathroom door, he quickly shut it before Cujo could dash back inside. If not kept out, the contrary feline would try to get under the water with him. He always thought cats weren't supposed to like water but Cujo had no problem whatsoever getting wet. For an animal that had so many other 'issues' it was pretty strange and though Danny always accused him of being an exhibitionist when circumstances required a clothing change in the office or elsewhere; it was still kind of weird to have the cat stare at him while he was stripping. Cath was always kind of creeped-out by Cujo's stare and he'd always laughed at her but he could see her point.

He'd gotten the bandage wet so, wincing; he pulled it off to toss into the trash. The line of stitches started just over his right ear and went upward for three inches or so. "Dammit" he muttered, not at the gruesome display but that they'd had to shave a strip of scalp.

He really wasn't all that vain but it looked stupid. Danny would've had a cow if it had happened to him. Opening the medicine cabinet, he pulled out the antiseptic ointment and bandaging supplies to replace the one he'd removed. Maybe he'd just buzz off the rest so it could all grow out at once. Wouldn't be the first time; besides, Cath told him it was a good look though he doubted the stitches would make it seem like a fashion statement.

Not bothering with a comb, he ran his hands quickly through his hair as he clumped down the stairs; surprised not to see the detective passed out on the sofa. Judging from the empty bowl sitting on the coffee table, he should be in a yellow dye number six coma.

"Danny?" he called out but got no response. "You here?"

Striding into the kitchen, he saw the room was empty and the door to the lanai was still locked. Spotting the sheet of paper on the counter near the coffee maker, he frowned as he read the note.

"Dammit" he muttered. His level of frustration immediately ramping up; he went to the landline. The ancient wall-mounted phone was beside the back door. He had no idea where his cell was. Danny probably took that too, he thought with mounting irritation.

Dialing the detective's number, he waited for an answer.

…

Mickey Kilkenny stood, hands on hips, surveying the grisly scene. Washed-out blue eyes took in the details of the crime. He'd promised Kiki he'd give her the full report when he'd said goodbye to her this morning. That dick McGarrett had full intention to bust her if she showed up and again made a pest of herself. He had no doubt the man would make good on the promise.

The detective figured it was fair trade. The woman was damned good in the sack. Besides, his wife was away with the kids visiting relatives for a month and well . . . a man has needs. He watched the three Five-0 taskforce detectives as they briefly huddled together outside before dispersing to gather their own information. Where was McGarrett?

The news trucks were beginning to clog the street along with the lookyloos. This was going to be a mess. He saw KAEO's truck pull up. Kiki was playing it safe for now and one of the other reporters was sent out on this one. Talia, that cute little piece wasn't even along, just the hair-gelled walking clotheshanger who filled in when Kiki wasn't around and his pothead cameraman. This was going to be a boring day.

He walked over to where Five-0's Detective Williams stood on the walkway in front of the shop. He knew the guy was at least a decent investigator; not some over-amped tattooed jerk who had no business being a cop.

"Hey Danny, you pick up anything new?" he greeted

"Not yet but we'll get the bastard." answered Williams with a grim smile

"Where's your partner? Polishing his medals?"

The compact detective only gave him a warning glare. "McGarrett's got other things to do this morning . . . not that it's any of your concern Mickey."

"Touch touchy, detective." smirked Kilkenny

"Just what is your problem?" asked Williams gruffly; no patience for anyone's crap this morning, "There's no need to make this any harder than it has to be."

"My problem is that the Governor's pet grizzly has no business being a cop. He's just a psycho with a badge."

"That 'psycho' as you call him is a better cop than you'll ever be Mickey. That must be what's bothering you. You've finally realized that and its put a dent in your incredibly overblown opinion of yourself. The opinion no one else seems to hold mind you."

Bristling, Kilkenny bit out, "I knew you'd defend your _boyfriend_. He not here because you got into a tiff over who gets to _drive_?" sneered the HPD detective, emphasizing words in a suggestive way that left no doubt about the entendre. "Tell me, do you guys switch-off or . . . . " sneered the HPD detective.

As his blood pressure rose in anger, Danny felt his face redden. _That's it!_ Kilkenny had gotten on his last nerve.

"Aww, did I make you blush? You know Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell is over and done with. You guys gonna make it official?" sniggered Kilkenny knowing he'd finally succeeded in getting under Williams' skin. Baiting the little guy could be dangerous at any time and right now, his partner wasn't around to interfere.

Chin, spotting Williams and that dick-head Kilkenny standing on the walkway, had been on his way to tell Danny that they'd perhaps gotten a break. There was promising information he'd just gleaned from one of the people who'd arrived for an early morning latte. From the short distance away, he saw Danny stiffen his posture and then take a confrontational stance. If the man had been a cat, his fur would be standing on end. Quickening his steps, he just caught the last few words spoken by HPD's most disagreeable detective. _Uh-Oh!_

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**So, you think our little SEAL will be content to stay home and recuperate? Is Danny going to wind up in a brawl?**

**Reviews would be lovely.**


	7. Homicide - Goal or Accomplishment?

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 7

**I know this is late! The guilt has been killing me but RL still isn't letting me off the hook. Must have been really bad in a past life 'cause karma's come round to bite off big chunks of my ass right now. I'm sorry if you were thinking the story was abandoned. I wouldn't do that to you guys. Thank you so very much for your response to the last chapter. As always, your suggestions and criticisms are welcome.**

**Imaginary Beta hasn't gotten much sleep so please ignore any screw-ups unless they're too troublesome. If so, please feel free to rat her out and I'll kick her butt.**

**Disclaimer: Not getting paid for this and despite many attempts at persuasion, the powers at CBS are still unwilling to take me on as a volunteer-body-make-up-applier. I know I'd do a fabulous job of covering up those tattoos. Will be extremely diligent and make sure I take the time . . . lots and lots of time . . . to do it right.**

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Homicide – Goal or Accomplishment?

"Danny!" interrupted Chin, stepping between his friend and the guy he personally knew to be bad news. Kilkenny had been one of the worst of those who'd given him a rough time when rumors of an I.A.D. investigation had circulated through the department like wildfire. Even after it was proven Chin didn't take the money, he knew Kilkenny had continued to diss him to whoever would listen.

Pinning the HPD detective with a cold stare, he then turned to Danny to announce, "We may have a lead. You need to talk to this guy we're questioning over there on the other side of the walk."

Williams, vibrating with the need to choke the ever-loving shit out of Mickey Kilkenny, didn't give up his nose-to-nose stance and intense glare for another couple beats before snorting dismissively and turning to look at Chin.

Kilkenny only stood smirking; hoping to cover-up the relief he felt when they'd been interrupted. He wasn't entirely sure he could take the pint-sized investigator in a throwdown. Williams has quite the reputation and not just for his mouth. Anyone who could back-up that crazed asshole McGarrett without a second thought wasn't a pushover to say the least. Maybe it would be wise to back-off a little.

Knowing this was no time for macho bullshit; the Hawaiian detective placed his hand on his colleague's shoulder and nodded toward where Kono stood talking to a somewhat tattered looking man. No matter how much Kilkenny deserved what Danny would do to him, they had business to take care of.

With one last hard look at the smug looking Kilkenny, the blonde took a step back before turning abruptly and stalking toward where Kono waited with a possible witness, as he muttered under his breath, "Later asshole."

_Next time, I won't break it up, I'll just let Danny clean his _clock, thought Chin who had no doubt the Jersey detective could make minced meat out of the obnoxious Kilkenny. He just hoped he'd be around to witness the annihilation.

As they walked toward Kono and the guy she'd been questioning, Chin cautioned in a low voice, "Danny, chill brah. It won't do us any good if you get hauled-in for beating the crap outta that jerk - no matter how much he deserves it."

Replied the thoroughly ticked-off Williams, "Now I know why he and Steve need to be kept in separate cages. There's no way SuperSEAL would put up with that kinda shit. Next time they get into it, I won't stop Steve from turning him into a pile of smoking rubble."

"If they get into it again, half the department's gonna be on Steve's side. Kilkenny's never gone out of his way to make friends unless he thinks they can get him somewhere."

"That just means he's probably gonna be a big-shot politician someday." observed Danny with undisguised venom.

Taking a deep breath and shrugging off his recent desire to commit homicide, Danny came to stand beside Kono who was engaged in conversation with a weather beaten man wearing clean but tattered clothing.

"Danny, this is Arthur Lopaka, he says he may have seen something."

"What was it that you saw Mr. Lopaka?" asked Danny, taking in the bloodshot eyes and baked appearance of the man in front of him. _It's only half-past seven freakin o'clock in the morning. Who gets stoned this early in the day? Oh, right, Toast. Well, it's perpetual with him. He probably wakes up that way._

Seeming to suddenly realize someone had just asked him a question, Lopaka roused himself and began, "Brah, there was this guy."

…

It wasn't hard for Steven J. McGarrett to sit still. It was impossible.

Pacing from the living room to the kitchen for what seemed the thousandth time, he stopped to stare at the animal watching him curiously from the top of the tiled counter.

"You know this is your fault." said the tall man accusingly.

The cat said nothing.

"If you hadn't decided, for whatever reason, that you just had to jump into an empty pot and knock it off the counter . . . well . . . I wouldn't be stuck here feeling like I just got hit by a train."

The animal only blinked lazily at him from his perch on the countertop, apparently feeling no responsibility whatsoever for his human's current condition.

McGarrett, needing an outlet for his annoyance at being stranded stared back for a moment before giving up to try to blink away the multiple images of his miniscule assailant, "You know what? Next time you and Danny get into it, I'm gonna be on his side. No more Mr. Niceguy, cat."

Cujo only stared back at him - the very picture of innocence as he licked a velvety paw to then scrub it over his face and behind his ears in an impromptu bath.

"Really got you worried, huh." muttered Steve at the cat's obvious lack of being impressed with the threat.

With the ache in his head growing ever fiercer with each passing minute, he spied the prescription bottles Danny had left out on the counter. Reading the labels at this point was impossible. He knew that one bottle was a painkiller and the other was probably an antibiotic . . . whatever. He emptied one tablet from each bottle into the palm of his hand and without bothering with water, dry-swallowed them.

Even though he felt like unmitigated crap, he needed to get out of here. He couldn't see clearly enough to read so going to H.Q. to deal with the dreaded pile of paperwork wasn't an option. Television was out too; besides, daytime T.V. offered only soaps, reruns of old sitcoms or programs with what seemed a hundred pissed-off and/or argumentative women all speaking at once. Even if he didn't already have a headache, he was sure he'd quickly acquire one after a few minutes of listening to 'The View' and even on a good day; that pompous tool Dr. Phil got on his nerves.

He thought of going for a swim but he was still too dizzy and becoming disoriented in the water wasn't anything to mess with - even though he knew the ocean as well as he knew his own living room. Despite Danny's opinion of his supposed lack of regard for his own safety, he wasn't that foolish.

The cat chose that moment to leap off the counter and madly dash across the room. He may actually be chasing something or he may just be hallucinating as cats seemed to sometimes do. _If only it was that easy to find entertainment! _was his thought as he chuckled softly.

After another half-hour of feeling sorry for himself and with his head feeling slightly better, he picked up the kitchen phone's handset and punched a familiar number into the keypad on the battered unit mounted beside the door.

…..

"Tell my colleague, Detective Williams, what you saw Mr. Lopaka" directed Kono as their witness seemed to mentally wander off once again.

"Oh . . . yeah . . . " said the man apparently startled to find three detectives staring at him and expecting some sort of response, "Well, there was this ninja-lookin' dude that ran from the building to the other side of the parking lot."

"Ninja looking?" asked Danny

"Yeah, you know brah, all dressed in black like in the movies and with a kinda hoody kinda masky thing."

"Uh huh. A hoody kinda masky thing. Got it." acknowledged Danny (rather patiently thought the blonde detective) as he grit his teeth before asking slowly and clearly, "Can you describe this person other than the clothing? Height, weight . . . ?"

"Well, he wasn't all that big. Maybe kinda smallish, not real bulky or anything. It was still pretty dark, ya know. I only got a quick look before he went back up the slope into the trees."

"What were you doing here at that hour Mr. Lopaka?" asked Danny, having already decided the guy, in addition to being stoned out of his mind, was probably homeless though he obviously made the effort to not appear so. He was clean shaven and though a bit tattered, his clothing was clean as well.

"I was ahh, just wakin' up. Wanted to come down to get an espresso. You know to kinda kick the neurons into gear."

_Yeah, whichever ones you haven't already fried_, thought Danny as he waited only a little impatiently for the man to continue.

"It's nice havin' a place so close."

"You live near here?" asked the blonde, having realized this was a business park built at the very outskirts of town and there were no residential areas close to where they now stood.

"Yeah, right over there." said the man waving vaguely toward the treeline at the top of the slope.

"You camp up there?"

"No, well, yeah." stammered the man who, surprisingly, wasn't too out of it to not look embarrassed. "I'm sort of between places right now, ya know."

"Uh huh." said Danny non-committaly, it wasn't all that uncommon to run into such people. There were plenty of places to squat in the surrounding forested areas. This business park had been carved out of what had been previously been undisturbed ground densely covered with trees and other vegetation. Even he, a transplanted haole, was bothered by the seemingly ruthless destruction of habitat. Surely the island didn't need another of the ubiquitous coffee shops that seemed to infest the state like an invasion of roaches.

"Anything else you can tell us about this guy? Race, ethnicity?"

"Didn't really get to see anything other than the ninja stuff. Wasn't any skin showing or anything."

"You have a way for us to get in touch with you?"

"Yeah brah, uhh I mean officer, got a cell-phone. One of the girls at the coffee shop always lets me plug in the charger there. I guess she's one of the one's who didn't make it huh?" he said sadly

"What was her name?"

"Mona, her name was Mona. Really sweet."

"You know her last name?" asked Kono

"Uhh, no. Never asked."

"So, you and Mona know each other well?" asked Danny almost casually, eyebrows quirking with his inquiry.

"No, no, it wasn't like that man. She was just being nice. "answered Lopaka quickly, having begun to lose the mellow haze of his early morning toke. He suspected the little blonde cop may be hinting at something.

Deciding the guy was telling the truth about the girl, Danny said to the now much more focused looking man, "We'll be contacting you, Mr. Lopaka. I don't have to tell you not to leave town, right?"

"Got nowhere to go." said Arthur Lopaka rather sadly "Besides, since the old lady threw me out, I try to stay as close to my kid as possible. I don't go too far away from here. They still live in my house . . . well my ex-house, about three miles from here."

"How old is your child?" asked Danny curiously

"Ten. She's like the best brah, like a light in the dark. Right now, the only light I guess." he said, looking as though he was about to cry; his glazed and reddened eyes becoming shiny.

Danny nodded in understanding then turning toward the sound of approaching footsteps, he did a double take at the man walking toward them.

_What the hell!_ he muttered

Striding up to them as though it was just another day in the field came their recently concussed leader.

"What do we have Danny?" he asked coming to stand beside the blonde detective who glared daggers at him as Kono's eyes widened at the appearance of the man who was supposed to be recovering at home.

"Hey boss. How are you feeling?" she cautiously asked knowing Danny was about to rip him a new one.

Chin only nodded at the tall man and prepared to once again inject himself between Danny and a person who was taking his life in his own hands.

"Good. I'm good." he responded with a smile, ignoring the man standing beside him whose glare should have made him burst into flames right there on the sidewalk.

Kono took that moment to turn to the homeless man to get his phone number and confirm that he would sign a statement if and when it became necessary. Chin joined her and winced unconsciously when Danny roughly took his partner's arm and dragged him away toward the street.

"What the fuck are you doing here!" hissed the detective

"Danny, I am the boss . . . remember?" replied McGarrett, trying to go for indignation.

"Oh, you mean the boss with a concussion, several stitches in his rock hard head and absolutely zero common sense who is supposed to be home right now?"

"No, the boss who has a job to do." calmly answered McGarrett with as much authority as he could muster. Of course it wasn't quite as effective as it could be. He swayed a bit as he tried to ignore a sudden bout of vertigo and the accompanying queasiness that may have caused him to pale a bit. _Shit, this wasn't going well._

The unfocused look in his partner's eyes and the greenish tint to his complexion didn't escape Danny's notice. "Your job right now, you moron, is to stay home and keep from inconveniently passing out or puking! How'd you even get here?" demanded Danny, "I took both sets of your keys." then without waiting for an answer said, "You hot-wired your truck didn't you! You pulled some SEAL crap and drove here without being able to see straight! I knew I should've cuffed you to your bed!"

"No, Danny, I didn't hot-wire my truck!" was the defensive answer, "I called someone for a ride. I'm not stupid enough to try to drive right now!"

"No, thank God, but you are stupid enough to try to come to work with a fucking concussion!"

"It was boring at home." answered the tall man in what sounded suspiciously like a defensive whine.

"What? You and your wolverine couldn't entertain each other? Maybe you guys could hunt mice together but SEEING AS HOW YOU SHOULD BE IN BED YOU MORON – PROBABLY NOT!" Danny arms and hands were a blur as he settled into the familiar rhythm of a rant, his hapless partner standing rigidly before him with arms crossed over his chest and looking as though he could chew nails.

Though there were several members of HPD within hearing distance, they pretty much ignored the commotion. It wasn't anything new. Five-0 seemed run very successfully on conflict and adrenaline. There was no need to interfere even if it sounded as though the commander and his 2IC were once again about to kill each other.

"Knock it off Danny! I'm not leaving! We have a job to do and I can't just sit at home and listen to news reports."

"You said 'listen' didn't you?" suddenly accused the astute detective, hands stilling as he narrowed his eyes at the pale man, "You didn't say 'watch' the news. I bet you still can't see straight can you!"

"Uhh . . . "stammered McGarrett, knowing he was busted

"Moron" said Danny, knowing he was pissing in the wind to even try to get the Five-0 leader to do something reasonable like stay home and recuperate. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he said "Come on then. Let's get to the top of the slope to see if the C.S.I.'s have found anything up there. And you'd better not pass-out or toss your cookies Rambo 'cause I'm not carrying your ass or holding your head while you puke."

Smiling a crooked smile of triumph, Steve clapped his hand on Danny's shoulder as they walked toward the hillside on the other side of the parking lot

Whether the hand on his shoulder was in friendship or Steve just trying to keep his balance the detective wasn't sure. Didn't matter, Rambo was here now and he'd keep an eye on the idiot.

_Whew, at least I don't have to stay home and listen to those women on The View! _thought the SEAL, head still pounding and fighting nausea as they began to ascend the leafy slope toward where the suspect had last been seen.

…..

With a galloping heartbeat, the realization that that homeless guy had almost seen what had happened had sunk-in during the hasty retreat up the slope to the waiting vehicle. That had been an uncomfortably close-call.

It certainly wasn't the time to become overconfident. It wasn't yet complete. There was still more to do. The blade of the knife that lay on the towel on the passenger seat was still sticky with the darkening liquid.

_Have to take care of that. Can't leave any traces. That one had been messy. It's a good thing black clothing doesn't show stains all that well._

The quickly warming morning air was relaxing as it flowed through the vehicle that entered the flow of commuter traffic on Ala Moana Highway. After a quick clean-up there'd be a trip to set the next one up – just a little more carefully this time. _A caramel Macchiato sounds good right about now_.

It had been a busy morning.

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**Still searching for the 'funny' that seems to be incredibly elusive this time. May be posting an angsty one-shot to try to get it out of my system once and for all.**

**Will try very hard to update within a week. If you're still talking to me, reviews would be nice.**


	8. The Value of Communication

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 8

**Here's the next. Thank you all so much for your response to the last chapter. There are references in this story to people or events in Cujo II but it's not at all necessary to read it first.**

**Imaginary Beta tried to weed out any errors but is never sure she caught them all. I hope she doesn't annoy you with her incompetence.**

**Disclaimer: I make zero money from this but have made a deal with ninja cats: if they stay off the keyboard and let me write, I will build them their own private fish pond and plant an acre of cat nip from my proceeds. Cats are apparently optimists and not very good at math - suckers.**

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The Value of Communication

Sam Denning's virtues are many. He is intelligent, hard-working, well-spoken, ruggedly handsome, a sharp dresser and etcetera; but, despite all the attributes one could ascribe to the man, there was one that was lacking - patience.

Denning had been put in the infrequent position of being on the receiving end of what he usually dished out. The man he'd just spoken to, the C.E.O. of all things coffee, reasonably expected his operation in this state to run without any major hitches. The titanic-sized hitch vexing him right now was that several of his employees had been offed willy-nilly and there'd been no progress in solving the murders. The man was pissed and wasn't shy about letting the Governor of Hawaii know exactly what he thought of the state's law enforcement capability.

Denning was seething; and to say that he'd run out of something he hadn't much of to begin with would be understatement. He was in a very very bad mood and he felt the need to take this dark mood and _share_ it.

Running a hand over his face as he tried to take a calming breath to lessen the chance of going up in an angry puff of smoke, he reached across his desk to punch the button on the intercom and growl, "Get me Five-0!"

….

Danny heard a familiar ringtone that wasn't his. Realizing Steve's phone was still in his pocket, he pulled it out and stifled a groan as he saw the display. There, staring back at him in all its electronic glory was a familiar face. Like Steve's official Navy photo that could be used to scare small children, Denning's, though a bit more artistically lit, could as well be used to frighten even not so small children. This conversation was not going to be at all fun.

Standing next to him was his partner who had a puzzled look on his face as he searched his pockets for his cell before remembering that Danny had taken custody of it. He held out his hand as the phone was quickly thrust toward him; the smug looking detective saying, "It's for you."

….

_His human had left him again_. If cats could be said to sigh in annoyance, that's what the little animal did.

He didn't like to be left alone – well, not in this way. He liked to be left alone as far as having to endure petting from the hands of those who had no permission to do so, (particularly the hands of the small humans which were usually sticky and smelled of all manner of things). He also didn't like to be alone in the hallway after being locked out of the room that had the large soft sleeping place in it. It bothered him immensely. _What is all that noise about when his human and his female are in there?_

Nope, sometimes he didn't like to be left alone.

This metal bed that usually sat on top of where there was sometimes hot food was just the right size in which to curl up. Sometimes, even though it was clean, it still smelled of delicious things. His human hadn't yet given up trying to make him stay out of it and he was very pleased to find it waiting for him when he'd jumped up to explore and had suddenly been overcome with the need for a nap. He was in the middle of a delicious dream of fat, slow-moving, mice; whiskers twitching and paws grabbing toward them in his sleep when there was a noise that woke him.

Hearing the front door open, he was instantly and fully alert; eyes wide and ears turned like pointed little radar dishes toward the sound. He quickly leapt out of the metal bed and ran to see who was entering his house. Skidding to a stop on the shiny ground, he waited for the door to unlock. As it slowly swung open he saw who it was and a low warning rumble came from his throat.

…..

Steve ended the call and blew out a breath. The headache that had finally started to abate was now back in full force.

Seeing the dark look on his partner's face, Danny felt almost apologetic for handing him the phone . . . almost.

_If the idiot insists he's okay enough to be at work then he's okay enough to listen to our very likely unhappy Governor._ This was one of those times he felt grateful to be only second in command. No, _extremely_ grateful if the look on Steve's face was any indication. Danny concluded his prediction of the Governor's mood was correct as he listened to one side of the conversation which mostly consisted of tightly uttered 'yes sirs' and 'no sirs' and observed the SEAL's clenched jaw muscles and tense set of his shoulders as he listened with his eyes squeezed shut as though in pain.

"So, what does our esteemed employer have to say?" he asked as the tall man hit the 'end' button and jammed the phone into one of his many pockets before rubbing at his temples with both hands.

"Said if we don't find who's doing this and fast, we're outta work." answered the SEAL, sounding tired and annoyed.

"He's not serious." said Danny dismissively with an airy wave of his hand.

"Dunno man, he sounded pretty sincere. Apparently, the big kahuna of the coffee chain ripped him a new one and threatened to pull all the shops from the island."

"You know that's just an empty threat right?" replied the detective with a roll of his eyes, "The streets of Honolulu could be friggin' littered with the bodies of dead baristas but if there was the possibility of selling one more over-priced cup of coffee they'd never close up shop here."

"You're probably right but it's starting to put a dent in their sales which puts a dent in the funds from one of Denning's biggest supporters. You're probably also right about his threat being an empty one but I'd just as soon not have to listen to someone else ranting at me. I think you've got that pretty well covered."

"You're saying I rant?"

"Do I even have to say it?"

"I'm not ranting. I'm only pointing out to you how you can do things in a more civilized and acceptable manner."

"Yeah right." huffed the SEAL," And I suppose the volume at which this advice is dispensed and the many hand gestures that go with it are all part of making it a more memorable experience?"

"You do tend to pay more attention when those techniques are used, don't you?"

"Only when I can't block it out and your yelling isn't about to make my brain explode or make me want to beat the crap out of you."

"Steven, you don't realize how lucky you are. Not everyone has the type of friend who'll help one negotiate the vicissitudes of life."

"Vicissitudes? Really?" huffed the SEAL; his tone reminding the blonde that the 'word of the day' vocabulary building exercise greatly annoyed him at the moment.

Ignoring it, the detective continued in a purposely condescending tone, "I know that mammal to mammal communication is not one of your natural skills so I help out when I can", adding, "No, no, you don't have to thank me Steven." then flicking his hand as if to dismiss the attempt.

"Yeah, don't worry about me thanking you and those natural skills are going to be of help when I've had enough of your bullshit and decide to clobber your ass."

"Don't be so sure it will be that easy Rambo and I'll have you know there are admirers of my ass who wouldn't appreciate it being damaged. They think it's quite attractive as a matter of fact and have told me so very recently at the office."

"Yeah, like who?" asked the tall man in disbelief, "The only one outside the team I've seen you in conversation with in the office lately is the governor's aide . . . and he's a guy."

"No, not him, I'm afraid he's _your _fan my fine macho friend. He was only inquiring as to your availability and if it wasn't for my informing him he had no chance of seducing you: A – because you're straight and B – because Catherine would kick his ass if he so much as looked in your direction . . . you'd have been fighting for your virtue."

Steve only frowned at his friend. "Wait! You're saying the guy has the hots for me?"

Trying to suppress a smile, the detective asked, "Haven't you noticed him lingering a bit longer than necessary when he stops by to drop off Denning's requisition approvals?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah I guess, but I thought he was interested in Lori or Kono."

"So when he asks if there's anything else he can do for you when he's probably not asked anyone that question in the history of the governor's term of office – you didn't think it was a little suspicious?"

"No, of course not. I thought he was just being helpful." said McGarrett starting to look a bit anxious.

Shaking his head at the denseness of a guy who had an I.Q. that would put most people to shame but whose skills in human interaction were seriously lacking replied, "You have got to be the most clueless human being on the face of the earth, other than maybe Michelle Bachman."

Danny was happy to see the flush creep up his partner's neck as his face took on a sort of queasy, dismayed, worried look.

"Oh God." murmured the SEAL

"What?"

"I think maybe I have a date with Dave Matsui."

"What!"

"Well, he asked for advice on firearms. He said that Rick, Denning's regular bodyguard, was going to be taking a few days off and he didn't know if he trusted his replacement to keep the Governor safe. Said he wanted to learn how to maximize his accuracy with the gun he just bought if something came up. I agreed to meet him at the gun range on Tuesday and then he said he was gonna take me to lunch to pay me back."

Once again, Detective Danny Williams had occasion to double over in laughter as Chin and Kono stared at him in puzzlement.

Commander Steven McGarrett, once again, had occasion to wonder how his life had ever become such a fucking disaster. Maybe Danny is right about the communication stuff. He just wanted to go lie down in a dark place somewhere and pull the covers over his head and make it all go away. His headache was now twelve on a scale of ten.

"What's going on boss? You look kinda queasy, you okay?" asked Kono as she came up to the two men; one laughing his ass off and the other looking as though he was about to put a stop to it.

"I'm fine, let's go over the scene again. We have a murderer to catch." barked Steve as he stalked off, Danny happily trailing behind him.

…

The killer had once again left no clues. There weren't any footprints or tire tracks. The only possible witness had been seriously stoned and for all that it mattered could have seen the Easter bunny climbing back up the slope. In frustration, the tall man kicked at a rock and sent it tumbling down the hill to the parking lot below.

Standing with hands on hips, he looked down the slope at the large strip mall that bordered the industrial park; eyes roving over the various businesses occupying the concrete and glass scar on the landscape. There was something trying to get his attention. Something he couldn't quite bring to the front of his aching head.

"Chin!" he exclaimed, "See if you can pull up information on the locations of those other murders and find out what other kinds of businesses were in the area."

"You on to something?" asked the Hawaiian detective

"Maybe."

….

She'd come by to pick up the rest of her things. The last couple of nights had been spent at her new place but she realized she hadn't taken the box of inexpensive costume jewelry with her. Doris had a date tonight and didn't have time to go all the way back home before the time she'd agreed to meet her date at the restaurant. She'd have to take her shower and get dressed here and get that pair of rhinestone earrings that went so well with tonight's outfit. There were also a few things in the kitchen she needed to pick up. Steve had been packing up whatever pots and pans she'd not yet taken. Why ever did she buy that cast iron dutch oven? The thing was fucking heavy and she'd never even used it anyway. Maybe she'd let him keep it.

As she opened the door, the cat was sitting there as though guarding the place.

"So", said Doris McGarrett with a smirk, "We meet again."

The cat said nothing.

"Why don't you just let me by and I'll be out of your way soon enough?" she said as she sidled carefully past him.

He growled warningly.

"You know, that I'm bigger than you are, right?" she laughed

The cat neither confirmed nor denied the statement.

"Okay, how about this? If you don't let me by, I'm gonna kick your furry little ass."

…

Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor. Besides, he was sneaky enough to get another shot at the tall female. He just had to be patient.

Finding the door open a crack, he hooked his paw through and pulled it open wide enough to slip into the room.

She was once again standing in front of the other female who looked back at her. It was strange how they seemed to move at exactly the same time and did exactly the same things.

Silently, he crept closer. Revenge would soon be his. He was almost in position to launch his attack when he saw it. Immediately, his heart began to race and he barely kept himself from voicing an exited chirp. _The box of wonderful things is open!_

It sat on the huge box that had many smaller boxes that fit into it. He'd explored its top many times but the dark wooden box that sat upon it was never open. She'd just picked up a thing that sparkled like the sun on the water and fastened it to her ear as he'd seen her do before. The other female in front of her did the same. Turning to pick up a bristly thing from the cloth sack behind her that had been laid on the sleeping place; she ran it through the long fur on her head. Perhaps now she was distracted enough for him to make his move.

"No you don't you little thief!" yelled Doris when almost faster than the eye could register, Cujo, in a sort of feline drive-by, snatched up an earring and disappeared under the bed with it.

"Give it back!" she said kneeling beside the bed and lifting the bedskirt. She spotted the cat just out of reach, the earring clutched possessively between his paws and a look on his face that said MINE!

Cujo growled in warning. _The sparkly thing is his now. The tall female wasn't going to get it back!_

"Okay you evil little creature, you wanna play rough with me?" she said in what the cat recognized as a return growl. Rising and going to the dresser, she picked up the atomizer of Chanel No. 5 and crept back to the bed.

Once again kneeling and pulling back the bedding, she said, "Last chance cat. You want to give it back?"

Cujo only stared back insolently. He knew the female couldn't reach him. He growled another warning just to reinforce his intent to keep his new toy.

"Alright, you asked for it!" she growled and with that, thrust a thing toward him and from it sprayed the most awful smell he had ever smelled in his life! It filled his nose and stung his eyes! It was worse than the time that strange two-colored animal with the fluffy tail had sprayed him! This was awful!

The cat, gagging and coughing streaked out from under the bed and out the door.

"Stupid cat!" muttered Doris as she fetched a coat hanger to reach under the bed to pull the earring out. "That'll teach you to mess with me! All McGarrett's aren't foolish enough to put up with your crap!" she called out toward where the cat had disappeared into the hallway.

….

He watched the others in the shop. Smiling to himself, he noted that it wasn't as crowded as it should be at this hour. There were one or two couples actually engaged in conversation in the cozy arrangements of leatherette chairs. Several individuals sat at the one long table fitted with convenient electrical outlets for their adapters or chargers and there were others who sat at the small individual tables scattered about.

All had heads buried in laptops; faces glued to electronic displays of information on smart phones or notebooks; eyes tracking lines of text on their tablets, some moving their lips and scrolling up or down for better comprehension. More than half of them even had earbuds sunk into the sides of their heads; feet tapping or head bobbing to a beat only they could hear. Some even hummed off key.

As he tried not to look at them he could feel his skin begin to prickle as his face flushed with the rise in his blood pressure. Taking a deep breath to regain composure he opened the pages in front of him and reveled in the scent of ink; the scent of glue used in the binding; the sensuous feel of the paper. Something wondrous and filled with knowledge for the taking was in his hands and it was available only a few feet but worlds away from this glass and chrome human parking lot for those attached to their electronic devices. They were such idiots to eschew the rapturous tactile sense of an actual book rather than a virtual one; the nearly orgasmic smell and feel of it. These poor clueless people had so very much to learn.

He was going to teach them.

***5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0***

**Next chapter isn't even a twinkle in Cujo's eye but will try to update within a week.**

**Comments would be lovely if you'd care to share.**


	9. Something in the Air

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 9

**Here's the next. A few more clues in this one. I hope you like it. I thank all of you who've been kind enough to comment and review and favorite. Please know that I very much appreciate your efforts and take inspiration from them. You may also notice some of your suggestions being incorporated into the story. Love hearing from you guys. You have such great ideas as to where you want the story to go. Errors all belong to Imaginary Beta, she's such a ditz sometimes but I don't have the heart to get rid of her.**

**Disclaimer: Ninja cats still waiting for the mouse ranch I promised to buy them from the proceeds of my writing. Since I make no money from this, they'll have a very long wait.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Something in the Air**

On his tablet, Chin had pulled up all the info he could but when he presented it to Steve, the tall man frowned saying, "This is only current intel right?"

"Yeah, to go back farther we might have to access the records of the registrar's office. Last I heard they weren't totally online yet. Kinda weird but they're still in the process of entering all their records. Sorry but this is all that's available right now."

"Looks like we're going to have to make a trip to county offices." sighed Steve, not looking forward to dealing with local bureaucracy.

"You're still looking a little rugged brah." said Chin with a crease of worry in his forehead, "You want Kono and I to take care of it?"

"Thanks for volunteering but I'd rather have you stay and oversee what's going on here. Don't let Kilkenny run roughshod over anyone. I don't trust him."

"I hear ya."

Danny, having also noticed his partner's pallor and still feeling a bit guilty for so quickly handing off the phone call from Denning, not that he could have done anything about it, asked, "We done here Rambo? If we are, let's get back to the office and go over what we have."

"Have to make a stop at county offices first."

"What's at county offices? Which office?"

"Registrar's."

"What are we looking for there?"

"Not really sure yet."

"Oh, okay, whatever. As long as it doesn't involve dumpster diving. I think you owe me a new pair of slacks. I may even be glad I don't wear a tie anymore."

"Everyone's glad you don't wear ties anymore. That was just weird."

"Says the man who thinks it's okay to have a Tasmanian devil disguised as a cat for a pet."

"He's not my pet Danny!" exasperatedly said Steve for probably the hundredth time since Cujo had 'adopted' Five-0.

"Okay, Mr. not-my-pet, not-my-girlfriend, not-my-turn-to-buy-the-next-round . . . what else is obviously yours that you're not laying claim to; other than maybe my car?"

Steve only looked at him with an expression that lost some of its threat considering it came from a guy with a large patch of hair missing from the side of his head and a spectacularly colored bruise covering most of one side of his face.

"The 'look' isn't workin' for yah right now Babe. Save your energy." With a chuckle and a sprightly stride, the detective went to the Camaro and slid quickly into the driver's seat as Steve more slowly followed to tiredly plop into the passenger's seat, not even bothering to glower at the smiling man who steered them toward the county office complex.

…..

The visit to the ornate building that housed Honolulu County Administrative Offices was as expected. Danny had always been amazed at the predictability of dealing with local government. There seemed to be a special type of employee who worked within its bureaucracy no matter the office. It had to be one of those deep dark secrets like black helicopters or Area 51 but he just knew there was a farm where they were specially bred.

These employees were usually females, (large ones), who took no guff from anyone. They'd heard all the reasons why whoever was in front of them at the time had to get their information with the utmost expedience but no matter the story or motive – _nothing_ made them move any faster. When each person finally arrived at the head of the queue, they were always met with a critical and disbelieving attitude, (the operative word here being 'attitude') and a glare as though you were trying to put something over on them as they peered through glasses perched on the ends of their noses.

This one, a woman named M. Waikai from the badge pinned to a triple D sized bosom fronting what looked to be a most solid and imposing two-hundred-fifty pounds looked across the counter at the compact blonde man before her. She wore a grey top with black horizontal stripes that banded her impressive chest as though to accentuate that area of her body which really didn't need more attention called to it.

_He's kinda cute,_ she thought but that still didn't earn him any points. When he'd shown her his badge and I.D. and smiled a friendly smile, it made not one fucking bit of difference.

"Fill out the form and go to window E." she intoned in a bored voice.

"No, I'm sorry, you don't understand." said Danny evenly.

"I don't understand what?" she demanded. This guy was already clicking into scenario number one – 'You don't understand'.

"I and my partner . . ." said Danny, waving toward Steve who stood impatiently a few feet away as a toddler raced by him then circled to hide behind his legs as its mother tiredly pursued her little darling around the large crowded office, nodded toward them, "are here to get information that will possibly be of great importance in solving the coffee shop murders. You've heard of them right?"

Though she had indeed heard the reports of the 'Machiatto Murders', the woman stared back at him seemingly not impressed. "Fill out the form and go to window E." she repeated

"I will repeat myself." said Danny, thinking, _We're talking murder here and she wants us to fart around with stupid procedures; the woman can't possibly be this hidebound. _ "This is a very, very, important part of a murder investigation and I need to get this information as quickly as possible."

Okay, the cute guy has just clicked into the second scenario - 'It's very, very, important'. The woman only stared back at him, pinning the detective with dark eyes as friendly as those of a monitor lizard.

"I repeat _myself_, Detective . . . " she leaned ever so slightly forward, her breasts settling on the counter top like two fat tired raccoons deciding to take a breather.

"Detective Williams of the Governor's Special Task Force." bit out Danny, quickly losing his patience with the woman.

"As I said, the procedure for getting this information, Governor's Task Force or not, is to fill out the form and go to window E."

Steve had been watching the exchange and saw Danny run his hand through his hair which indicated his partner was coming to the end of his patience and was about to launch into something no one would want to listen to. Quickly stepping around the mother who was still trying to corral her kid, he took quick strides to stand beside is partner.

"Something wrong?" he asked Danny

"Yeah, the something wrong is this woman who refuses to cooperate."

Steve turned toward her with the expression that Danny had named the 'Don't fuck with me or I'll stuff you into a trashcan' face. The steadfast woman didn't seem in the least intimidated – after all, she used to work the customer service desk at Wal-Mart and then had a four year stint at the DMV. _Nothing_ intimidated her.

Steve saw the lack of response to the look that usually made suspects more than willing to cooperate. He changed tactic. With his best Smooth Dog grin, he asked, "You know if you help us out, you'll be helping to find a murderer and keep the people of Hawaii safe don't you?"

"The safety of the people of Hawaii is not my job. My job is to keep order and make people follow the proper procedures for obtaining information from this office."

_Ookay, that didn't work_, thought the SEAL, _Time to up the ante_. Once more changing tactic, he read her name tag trying not to look as though he was staring at her more than ample chest as he did it. "Ms. Waikai, I know that you are only doing your job – and you're obviously very good at it but I _personally_ would be grateful if you could just skip the formalities and help us out here. We really need this information as quickly as possible." With that, he looked out from under his lashes with the gaze that had women wondering if, when they'd gotten dressed this morning, they'd put on clothing that was easy to get out of.

Danny wanted to hurl. Even with Steve looking like he'd lost a fight with a backhoe, he could still manipulate the 'fairer' sex. _Considering the way Rambo looks, maybe her interest is only motherly_, thought/hoped the detective disgustedly.

After a long moment of staring back into the tall man's ocean colored gaze, the woman's stern expression faltered before she gave a small nod. Knowing he'd been successful, Steve leaned forward and the two went over the required information.

A short time later the men walked back across the parking lot, thick sheaf of paperwork in hand. Now, they needed to go back to the office where they could go over it in detail.

Feeling better, Steve held his hand out for the keys which Danny reluctantly tossed to him. Unlocking the doors, he slid into the driver's seat and handed the paperwork across to Danny, before starting the engine and putting the Camaro into gear to back out of the parking space. Danny leafed through the bundle for a moment as Steve pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway. Suddenly, the blonde doubled over in his seat with a loud guffaw.

As he deftly steered through midday traffic, with a puzzled frown, Steve looked over at his partner. "What's so funny?"

"You've done it again." snorted Danny trying to get his laughter under control.

"Done what again?" demanded his partner.

"Once again, you've so very much impressed someone with your charm that you've gathered another admirer."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, brows knitting into an even tighter knot.

"Ms. Waikai, her first name is Minnie by the way but just ignore the irony for the moment . . . anyway she was so impressed with you that she's written a note on the last page of this report. I'll read it to you: 'Even with the bandage, you are totally hot! I get off at five-o'clock. If you'd like to meet for a drink or whatever, my number is . . . '"

"What! I didn't even flirt with her!"

Snorting in disbelief, Danny said "I have to say, Rambo, your charm seems to know no bounds as far as those caught in its spell. Hmm, let's see, so far the count is one: Catherine, who unexplainably despite your obvious lack of socialization is still entranced by you, two: Dave Matsui, with whom you have a date and now three: Ms. Minnie Wakai, who is expecting you to give her a call for a drink or whatever." said Danny making air quotes around the last word.

"I did not encourage any of that . . . I mean with Dave or Ms. Waikai."

"So you say. And yet your dance card runneth over." smirked Danny. "Oh, and if you take Ms. Waikai up on her offer; I'd advise you to eat your Wheaties first. That's a lot of woman, even for you Romeo."

"My dance card runneth over? That statement doesn't even make sense."

"You know damn well what I mean 'Smooth Dog'. Do we have to put you on a leash to keep you from enchanting the entire island?"

"Told you Danny. Leashes aren't funny." growled the tall man.

"So you say."

With Steve grimly gripping the wheel and Danny with a self-satisfied smirk beside him, they made their way along Pali Highway to South King Street toward the palace.

….

Kilkenny put his phone back into his breast pocket. He smiled at the thought of spending another evening in the company of the luscious Kiki Kenworthy. First, unfortunately, he had to check in with Five-0 and see what those schmucks had come up with. They'd left in a hurry and Chin Ho Kelly wasn't sharing. The Hawaiian had told him he had to talk to McGarrett or Williams if he wanted any answers. He really wasn't looking forward to talking to Williams or his dickhead partner. Williams was a tough little ferret and the leader of the task force was an arrogant pseudo-cop asshole but he'd have to suck it up and learn what he could. To have the Governor's pets beat him to solving the Macchiato Murder case would seriously impede his progress toward the top of the food chain at HPD.

After finishing up his own investigation at the scene, Kilkenny gathered up Phil his long-suffering partner and the two climbed into their sedan to begin the short drive to the palace.

….

She set the phone down with a smile. Her story would be filed with detail of the latest murder scene. She'd have information those losers at the other local stations would kill for. Tonight on the Five O'clock show, her story would be the big teaser at the beginning and she'd get the spot right behind the report on surf conditions.

Sleeping with one's informants may be a little questionable but it served its purpose. Mickey Kilkenny wasn't the best in the sack but she'd do what she had to do to further her career. That anchor job would be coming up soon. That brittle blonde bitch who held it now was getting a little long in the tooth for the station to keep her on and they'd be looking for a replacement soon. Even if the woman was an actual Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, the lines and sags are starting to show a bit too much. Kiki Kenworthy could almost taste the impending anchor position and the power that went with it.

Drumming her lacquered nails lightly on her desk for another moment while she thought this one through, she picked up the phone once again to place a call.

…

Grace Williams is a cute kid. She knows it. Her father knows it. If she can't get her Danno to do what she wants, her next line of persuasion is to enlist the aid of her Uncle Steve. He's always such a pushover when she gives him 'the look'. Her Danno had named it puppy dog eyes and said that her uncle had stolen it from her when he also wants something he's not supposed to have. This always made her laugh that she, a little girl, could ever teach anything to SuperSEAL.

Her Uncle Steve always seemed to know what to do when anyone needed help. Well, that is, the kind of help that required physical stuff like opening jars or making gigantic sand castles complete with moats and little flame throwers, (Danno made him take them out), or stuff like chasing and tackling bad guys. With the other stuff, her Danno was better. He knows things like what to say when someone was sad or needed cuddling or how to make really good spaghetti. Uncle Steve wasn't as good at that stuff as her Danno but he did try. And not that Danno wasn't tough 'cause he was really, really, tough, (Uncle Steve's spaghetti was pretty awful).

She needed to borrow Cujo for show and tell. When she'd asked her father about it, between yelling and waving his arms around, she'd heard the words "Why is a ten year old girl suddenly suicidal?" She didn't know why there was a problem. She and Cujo had always gotten along. He'd even let her dress him up in doll clothes that time when her mom had to drop her off at Danno's work because Step-Stan had hurt his back when he was playing golf and had to go to the doctor. Of course he didn't look very happy about it, (Cujo, not Stan), but he didn't even squawk when she'd put the hat on his head and put him in the doll stroller. When Danno had seen them though, he'd had a giant hissy-fit and told Uncle Steve to stop laughing and get the friggin' cat out of the friggin' stroller and take those friggin' clothes off him while he gave her a lecture about not playing with dangerous friggin' animals. Danno had to put a lot of money in the swear-jar that day.

Right now, she stood in front of her father using her best version of puppy dog eyes ever, "But Danno, Cujo has a badge and a special carrier and everything!"

"No, you are not taking that evil little monster where he can get loose and eat a couple dozen kids! You don't dislike your classmates that much do you? I mean except for that little putz err punk that tripped you on the playground. Right?"

"What if I take Uncle Steve with me?" she asked looking toward her uncle who seemed to be looking elsewhere at the moment.

Steve seemed suddenly very busy with something on his desk. Once he saw those big brown eyes he knew he'd be a gonner. _Come on Danno, keep the kid in line. No way am I going to show-and-tell at an elementary school._

Danny had obviously spotted his discomfort because, suddenly, a slow smile crept across his face.

"You know, maybe you're right Monkey. If we keep Cujo in the carrier and give him one of the magic pills that makes him really really sleepy, and Uncle Steve is there to stand guard . . . maybe it's doable."

_Shit! _Okay, it was his turn,_ Stay strong McGarrett!_

Despite his inner pep talk, within minutes, he'd agreed to accompany Grace Williams and Detective Cujo D. McGarrett of Hawaii Five-0 to Punahou Elementary School on the Wednesday of the following week. _What the hell? It's only a cat in a very strong airline approved carrier which will be locked and guarded. What could go wrong?_

"Yay! Let me go tell Cujo that he's going on a field trip!" With that, the excited child skipped off to find the little grey cat.

"Why did you agree to that?" hissed Steve as soon as she was out of sight. "I thought you didn't want to endanger anyone else with the furry piranha as you like to call him?"

"Why didn't you say no?" asked Danny with a grin, "You had opportunity."

"It's not my job to say no to your daughter, that's your job."

"Oh, so I get to be the bad guy while her Uncle Steve gets to play the hero?"

"That's not the way . . . " at that moment he was interrupted when Grace came back into the room carrying a puzzled looking cat. He'd been snatched up in the middle of a dream. He was just about to pounce on one of the sparkly things and make off with it when he felt himself being lifted by the small female's hands_. She's lucky that he likes her._

"Uncle Steve?"

"Yes, Gracie?"

"Why does Cujo smell like perfume?"

"Huh?"

"He smells really good. What did you put on him?"

As she held the cat up, he bent down to take a sniff. Cujo looked highly insulted that he should be subjected to this kind of scrutiny. After all, he's not a dog!"

"Uh huh." He said to himself as he nodded his head. The scent that wafted from the silky fur was familiar. It was the Chanel No. 5 his mother was so fond of. "So that's how she did it."

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**That sign that reads 'Will work for reviews' still sits on the wall over my desk and I'm still a cheap date. Would love to hear from you.**


	10. Meetings

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 10

**No, I haven't abandoned the story. Just more difficult than usual to find time to write. I apologize for not being able to update sooner. Can't even blame it on my innate laziness and ADD attention span this time.**

**Errors all belong to Imaginary Beta. She's really getting on my nerves.**

**Disclaimer: If I made money from this, I could hire people to shoo away cats and husbands when they demand that I feed them . . . or hire a cook to feed them . . . or hire a hitman . . . whatever.**

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Meetings

Kilkenny decided there was absolutely nothing else to learn from the crime scene. Maybe the C.S.I.'s could come up with something but he wasn't going to hold his breath. He swore to himself as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. _Fucking island weather._ Why he ever let his wife talk him into taking a job in Hawaii he had no idea. She thought it would be an adventure and he was stupid enough to go along with it. If they'd told him that he would be sweating through his shirt by eight in the morning he'd never even have gotten on the damned plane. At least he'd had a two week break from the old ball and chain. She and the kid were due back later today and the party would be over. He looked upward at the darkly mottled sky and hoped to hell it wouldn't rain. Rain would just turn the place into a giant sauna. _Fucking Hawaii._

Reluctantly checking in with Williams, he'd learned the detective and Five-0's leader wouldn't be available to meet for another couple hours or so. He smiled to himself. Maybe Kiki's available for a 'meeting'.

His gloomy mood lightening, he turned to his partner, "Hey, Phil. Why don't I just drop you off at the station? There's no need for both of us to be tied up with those Five-0 assholes. You can get started on the last of the background checks on the vics."

Phil Brotman only nodded sourly. Actually, he wouldn't mind getting away from Mickey for a while. Even on a good day the guy was a downer. There was only so much of the arrogant jerk he could stand but he'd hang in with this latest partner because in another five months, he'd be able to retire with a full pension. He could tough it out until then, right? Kilkenny was one of the most annoying guys he'd ever partnered with . . . and he'd partnered with more than a few over the years.

Mickey was almost the ultimate 'What's in it for me?' kind of guy. If it didn't further his career or stroke his ego, he could be a real bastard about things. Well, at least he knew where he stood with him most of the time. There was no need to guess with Kilkenny.

Actually, though it went against his own code of conduct regarding backing up one's partner, he'd be on McGarrett's side if the two ever got into it again. He had no doubt the commander would come out on top in any fracas between the two. Mickey was tough but he was no match for the tattooed guy. Brotman had no doubt McGarrett could pulverize Mickey without breaking a sweat. He was aware of the commander's reputation. The muscles weren't just for show.

It was Mickey's doing that there was any animosity to begin with. When that drug case had gone south and Five-0 had to salvage it along with the people held hostage in that abandoned factory, it hadn't set well with HPD's detective in charge at the time. That little verbal scuffle at the funeral had threatened to become physical when Kilkenny had launched into a diatribe loudly stating the Governor's 'fucking pet cobra' was responsible for causing the firefight which ultimately resulted in the death of one of their own.

The fact there'd only been the one law enforcement fatality despite H.P.D's being totally outgunned and out maneuvered was testament to McGarrett's handling of the situation. The commander had blatantly put himself directly in the line of fire to effect a rescue of the hostages but Kilkenny seemed to harbor a hard-on about it and used every opportunity to voice his criticism. Brotman knew if it hadn't been for himself and Williams running interference between the two, the confrontation would have gotten bloody and he'd no doubt the blood would have been the belligerent HPD detective's.

Having the disrespect to confront the man at a funeral for a fellow officer was only one of many issues Detective Phil Brotman had with Detective Michael A. Kilkenny.

_Oh for the day I can tell Mickey to go fuck himself! _thought the tired older cop as he climbed out of the sedan that had pulled over at the curb in front of Honolulu P.D.'s headquarters. Until then, he'd do what needed to be done. Sighing in relief, he waved a hand in goodbye as Mickey pulled away into traffic.

…..

The cousins had finished up at the scene and arrived shortly after Danny and Steve had gotten back from county offices. All were glad to be back in the cooler air of H.Q. as it had turned out to be another steamy day. Even at this hour, it was still over eighty-five degrees and it still felt like a sodden blanket lay over the island; you know, just like normal for this time of year.

After only a few minutes of sorting through the documents before them, the pattern was becoming obvious.

Danny had excused himself to take Rachel's call. In the middle of the examination of the county's documents, there'd come the sound of the latest ring-tone the detective had assigned his ex. This time it had been the frightening sound effect from the shower scene in the movie _Psycho_. Their contentious relationship sometimes resulted in loudly expressed remarks from their ex-Jersey detective so he always tried to take her calls in as private a setting as possible. Though Rachel appeared the epitome of a refined English rose, she apparently held her own against Jersey's finest. It could get pretty loud.

As he, Chin and Kono sat surveying the paperwork laid out on the table; Steve shook his head and grimaced in self-chastisement for not connecting the dots sooner. When they'd driven up to the crime scenes, he'd apparently subliminally been aware of the 'For Lease' signs in the windows of nearby storefronts. Some of them still bore the signage of former occupancy by the purveyors of books.

Each coffee shop had been located near a struggling book store. Some of the stores had already gone out of business; those were the ones that hadn't shown up in the current online data. He now remembered the store across the parking lot from the last one was actually in the throes of its 'Going Out of Business' sale with all books discounted by fifty percent having been touted on a day-glow banner that had been strung across the front window.

By the second crime scene there'd been a niggling at the back of his mind that he was missing something. After all, so many establishments of all kinds had gone out of business recently due to the country's general economy but, looking back, he didn't know why he hadn't seen it before. Maybe it was the headache. Now, they just had to figure out what the hell it means.

"Okay, so now we may have a pattern but it looks like all those stores are owned by different people." said Chin as he glanced upward from the smart table to his boss who had his fingers pressed to the side of his head.

Kilkenny would be here within the hour for their 'collaborative' meeting, (if that was even possible), and they were in the process of summarizing their latest information to quickly bring him up to date so he would have no reason to tarry here.

"You sure you're okay brah?" asked the Hawaiian detective in concern as he looked appraisingly at the pale, tired looking man on the opposite side of the conference table.

"Yeah, just a headache." said Steve grumpily; annoyed with himself and with the question – well intentioned or not.

"Danny always said your turn with Cujo was coming Boss." smiled Kono, making a joke but concerned when she saw Steve rubbing at his temple.

"My turn?"

"Yeah, Cujo hadn't really tried to off you yet. Your turn was coming he said."

"Well, he and Danny seem to set each other off for some unexplainable reason so it's probably not a valid observation." smiled Steve though his grin was a little tight due to the pain in his head.

"You can say that again. I think Cujo deliberately tries to provoke our Jersey boy." observed Chin – not even ironically.

"Yeah and Danny can pretty much back anybody down just by words alone but Cujo doesn't seem to be intimidated by him or really anyone or anything unless you count my mom."

"Your mom can be pretty intimidating." smiled Chin, "I know she always kept me in line when your dad and I were partners and even before that when Doris was one of the chaperones at the dances at Kukui while I was in my senior year."

"You were probably a walk in the park compared to what Mary and I could get into." smiled Steve, thinking about his and his sister's 'adventures' while growing up.

"Yeah probably. Your dad was always saying his kids were hell on wheels. I myself am still amazed at some of the things you pulled."

"Just don't tell any of those stories to Danny. He'll never let me live them down." said Steve more than half seriously.

Pointedly quirking his brows, Chin replied "Now that I think of it, I've probably got some great blackmail material."

"Just remember that I'm still your boss." smiled McGarrett at his sinewy detective.

"Boss, you spoil all the fun." laughed Kono

Just then Danny, still speaking on his phone, walked into the room. "Yeah, Monkey, I'm sure Uncle Steve is looking forward to going to show-and-tell with you and Cujo. Uh huh, I'll tell him. We'll make sure to polish up Cujo's badge so it will look good for your presentation. Now, go do your homework. Remember that we both have to stay on mommy's good side right now." Ending the phone call he muttered, "If she has a good side."

"Show and tell?" asked Chin, raising his brows as he looked across the table at his battered boss.

"Long story." Muttered his boss, not wanting to explain how he'd been manipulated by a ten-year-old girl who could turn him into a puddle of mush by just looking at him with those big brown eyes.

"Uh huh. I bet."

"So, whadda we got Big Kahuna? Your theory pan out?" asked the blonde detective rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he came to stand beside Steve.

…

He was happy and purring. The wonderful things were here whenever he wanted to look at them or play with them. None of the humans knew of his secret hiding place, not even his chosen human. A cat must have his secrets.

There were several other sparkly things in the pile and things that rolled and things that crackled and even things that squeaked! They were all his.

He'd tunneled under the heavy carpet to where his treasures waited. Even in the darkness he could feel them and smell the scent that lingered on their surfaces. He growled at the smell of that awful stuff that still clung to the last addition to his collection. It was the most sparkly of them all and he'd finally stolen it from the tall female when she wasn't looking.

He didn't forget. She had made him smell awful and he wouldn't forget what she'd done. He'd just have to be a bit more careful on his next raid. He amused himself for another moment as he batted at the ball that jingled before abandoning it to hook a claw into the long soft piece of cloth he'd found next the loud man one time when he'd stayed at his human's living place and had fallen asleep in the room with the talking box. It had been a little awkward to drag it here but he'd managed. Now it's his. Now all this is his.

He just could not figure out how to get into that talking box. At first, he'd thought he could catch the creatures and things that moved in it but after batting at it in attempts to reach them; he realized it was covered with the same kind of stuff that kept him from escaping into the outdoors. He could see through it but he couldn't find a way to get in or out as the case may be.

The place where his chosen human lived had many such openings with that stuff over them but sometimes it was okay to go outside and play in the big litterbox and sometimes it wasn't. He didn't understand why. Humans made no sense.

He knew he was never allowed outside the place with the mice and shiny slippery ground and many places to nap though he'd managed to escape more than once. It always seemed to upset the humans there for some reason. It was fun to outsmart them and make them chase him. Humans were easy to lure into playing . . . and they weren't all that smart.

Anyway, it annoyed him when they laughed at him when he tried to catch the things in the talking box. He didn't like to be laughed at. He'd make them sorry.

…

Eyes closed, Mickey Kilkenny turned over in bed to stretch contentedly. Kiki is a pistol. She could make money with her skills . . . and he wasn't talking about her journalistic ones. Well, he mused to himself, she sort of did – make money that way.

Exchanging information for her favors was an okay deal for everyone involved. He got what he wanted and she got information that would put her one over on the competition but it was a good thing this was only a sometime occurrence. He didn't think he could survive a regular relationship with the tigress. She'd probably kill him but, what a way to go.

"Mickey sweetie, tell me again what the crime scene looked like at this last one? Were the bodies all lined up neatly or were they just randomly scattered around? Did the blood cover the entire floor?"

Startled from his reverie, he looked across the room at the dressing table where she sat running a brush through her dark, glossy, hair. She hadn't bothered to put on a robe after her shower and he could appreciate the voluptuous scenery before him. _She's certainly a cold-hearted bitch but that doesn't change anything. A deal is a deal._

"They were all lined up neatly in front of the counter, Kiki. I told you this before. The blood well . . ." he tried not to shudder; whether at the thought of all the gore or at Kiki's strange iciness.

"I need to get a sense of how it felt to look at them." she said, turning toward him, knowing that he appreciated her sensuous display of silky skin. Well, whatever worked to get his cooperation. This was a fair trade as far as she was concerned. Besides, she knew he was addicted to her and would do pretty much anything she asked. She smiled her feral smile at the man lying naked in her bed.

"You get off on this shit don't you?" he asked, trying not to let his revulsion show as he stood and began to gather up his clothing.

"No, baby, I don't get off on it. What I do get off on is having information the other stations can't possibly get. What I get off on is the possibility that this information will get me the anchor spot at the station. "

"I don't have any illusions here Kiki about trading what I know for a roll in the hay but it has to mean something to you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it means I get to that network anchor job a lot sooner." she answered in a serious vein then chirped, "Lookout Katy Couric here I come." and returned to brushing her hair.

Humming to herself, she turned back toward the mirror and began to meticulously apply her make-up. She had another call to make as soon as Mickey left. Tonight, on the eleven o'clock, she'd blow them out of the water with her inside information.

Kilkenny sighed and checked the watch strapped to his wrist. He had to get to Five-0 headquarters and then to the airport to pick-up his wife and kid. Life was going to get a bit more complicated than it had been.

…

Kiki is nice. Kiki understands. He set the receiver back into its cradle on the old rotary style phone. His wife had tried to talk him into having one of those new cordless things but why would he bother if this one worked just fine?

Electronics weren't always best. Electronics are what make people ignore each other when they're sitting right next to one another. Computers and cell phones make children surly and disrespectful; playing games and texting or sexting or whatever it is they do these days. He'd heard the stories.

Electronics are the very reason he's alone now. Myra is gone. She'd had such faith in them; those doctors and their electronics.

He hummed along as he carefully honed the steel blade on the whetstone fastened to his work bench. Puccini played in the background from the compact disc player he'd consented to having placed on the cabinets behind him. That time Myra had been right. Listening to such glorious music was soothing as he went about his work. The knife was almost sharp enough.

…

Steve looked pale and his face had that scrunched look like he was trying to ignore something that hurt. It had been a long day and a possibly productive one but keeping Steve from throttling Detective Kilkenny during the meeting had been stressful and Danny was tired. After Mickey left and several more hours without headway, they'd finally called it a night after arguing successfully with HPD to up their patrols of the coffee chain's locations that were anywhere near a bookstore.

"So, how's your head?" asked Danny, trying to keep the snark out of his question.

"Hurts." was the honest but too brief reply from the passenger.

"Doesn't seem to have slowed you down much." smiled Danny as he steered the Camaro toward McGarrett's; driving his own car this time - testament to his partner's increasingly nagging headache.

"What do you mean?" asked the tall man as he once again rubbed at his temples careful to avoid the giant white Band-Aid decorating the shaved strip over his ear. Danny had already told him that it looked like someone had slapped a maxi-pad on his head. Steve was not a happy man at the moment.

"I mean, a bald patch, stitches and a bandage haven't lessened your lethal charm at all. Maybe we should see about getting you on one of those reality shows. You know, the ones where if you get chosen by the girl, you get a shitload of money, as well as the girl, as a prize."

"Shut up Danny." grumped the man in the passenger's seat; too tired and head too achy to go along with his partner's teasing.

"Come on big guy. There's money to be made and that's only on the straight shows. We haven't even thought about the ones on the LOGO channel. Apparently, your charm works across the board."

"You'd better not be suggesting what I think you are."

"Hey, I'm not the one with a date with Dave Matsui."

"That was a misunderstanding and you damned well know it."

"I wonder if he'll bring you flowers?" mused Danny as he watched his partner's face redden.

"You really wanna go there? If so, I'm sure there's more dumpster diving in your future."

"You wouldn't." said the detective, now anxious that maybe he'd pushed Steve a bit too far.

"I would if you don't knock it off and help me figure out a way to get out of that meeting with Dave. Maybe you should come with us."

"Threesomes are not my thing big guy." _This is just too easy,_ silently grinned Danny.

"All right! That's it! You are going to be crawling through a mountain of overheated garbage at the first opportunity that presents itself!"

"Hey! No fair! Just because I don't want to go along as a chaperone on your date!"

"It's not a date dammit!" thundered McGarrett, his head feeling about to explode.

"Maybe you can take Cujo. I'm sure he'll protect your virtue."

If there was a button to push that would make Danny vaporize into the atmosphere at that moment, Steve would push it.

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**Reviews would be much appreciated even if I don't deserve them. Next chapter will come sooner but may have to lock ninja cats and husband in the garage for a couple of days. (Don't worry, I'll make sure to leave them food and kibble).**


	11. Puppet?

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 11

**Here's the next. A bit sooner than the last but still not very timely. Finally had to hide at the library to get it done. Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews. I hope the story is keeping your interest and I sincerely appreciate any feedback.**

**Errors can be blamed on Imaginary Beta. Hopefully she didn't miss too many but she's just coming out of an ice cream coma. Will have to get her into rehab for that nasty rocky-road addiction.**

**Disclaimer: Still no income derived from this flight of fantasy. Actually, my fantasy flight would be the one that takes me to Hawaii so that I can begin my new career as a professional stalker.**

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Puppet?

After their earlier conversation, Steve hadn't said another word on the drive back. He sat with his head laid back on the headrest; placing a hand over eyes squinted shut when they rolled through a brightly lit intersection. Even through closed lids, the brief flash of brightness was enough to be painful and his stomach was again threatening to revolt.

"How much worse is that headache?"

"Danny, I told you, I'm fine! I just need to get some sleep and tomorrow I'll be okay."

Danny knew Steve was feigning a sound state of health; evidence of course being that he got to drive his own car without so much as a peep of protest from his control-freak friend. Even in the light available from the sources they passed, he could see that Steve was very pale, making the bruise on the side of his face look even worse.

"Don't mind me saying Rambo but you look like something a cat wouldn't even bother to bury in a litterbox let alone drag in."

Steve only snorted in annoyance. He hadn't told his partner that for the last couple of hours. The double vision had returned and his head felt as though someone was driving a spike through it. He'd put up only token protest when his 2IC took it upon himself to order everyone home to rest. He didn't fight over the keys to the Camaro either.

Finally pulling into his partner's driveway and parking behind the behemoth of a truck that was McGarrett's, Danny cut the engine and said, "Come on, let me make sure you take your meds before you collapse for the night and then I'll go home."

Steve grumbled as he unfolded himself out of the Camaro. As before, he probably wouldn't even be able to read the labels on the bottles so maybe it's a good thing Danny was here to dispense the pills. He'd just guessed at the number he was required to take this morning; figuring only one each wouldn't be any sort of overdose. Maybe he hadn't taken enough?

The night had finally cooled and a thick layer of dew gave up its damp hold to drip off the edges of the shrubbery and the overhang of the porch. A big fat drop hit him on the back of the neck as he fumbled with his house keys, pulling them out of his pocket and feeling for the right one before taking two somewhat unsteady steps up onto the porch. He shivered whether from exhaustion or the cold splat of water he didn't know. He had success on the second unsteady try at inserting the key and the lock clicked. He pushed the door open as Danny quickly stepped around him to the security alarm's touch pad to enter the code to disarm it before it timed out. Besides annoying crap out of the neighbors, if the alarm went off right now, Steve was certain it would cause his head to explode with its screeching.

"Hey!" called the detective from beside the doorway, "You didn't even set it! What good does it do to have an alarm system if one doesn't set the friggin' alarm Einstein?" he admonished, reprimand threatening to turn into rant.

"Not now, Danny." said McGarrett as he tossed his keys onto the table by the door, wincing at the loud clinking sound before tiredly clumping into the living room.

Cujo was sitting on the couch and blinking up at them sleepily before letting out a loud meow in greeting. He jumped down and trotted forward to wind his lithe body around his human's legs. Steve automatically reached down to pick him up but lost his balance and went down to one knee as he scrabbled for something to hold onto.

"Hey!" said Danny quickly grabbing onto his partner's arm to keep him from toppling over the rest of the way.

"I'm okay. Just a little dizzy that's all." said the tall man who latched onto his partner's proffered arm as though a life preserver.

"Yeah, _okay_ he says." huffed the blonde. "_Okay_ means you can stand upright instead of collapsing like a marionette who's had his strings cut. That doesn't seem to be the case here Babe."

"Can't you just say puppet?"

"No, that might mean something else entirely."

"What?"

He'd already let go of his partner's arm but another wave of dizziness made him reach for the high back of a side chair. Steve thought it was a subtle move but it didn't escape his observant friend.

"Never mind, just try to keep from landing on your face again. Adding to those bruises currently decorating it would not enhance your apparently inextinguishable charm. Even Mini the county offices lady would have second thoughts about a guy who's starting to look like someone used him as a _piñata_**."**

Head pounding in time with his heart, Steve couldn't think of a rejoinder as Cujo chirped worriedly at their feet and then stood on hind legs to paw at Steve. The little cat seemed concerned but maybe he was only trolling for dinner.

"See, even your piranha thinks you shouldn't be falling over like the tower in a losing round of Jenga."

"So first I'm a marionette then I'm a stack of little wooden logs? You really gotta get your metaphors under control brah."

"Yeah, whatever Rambo. Just plant it somewhere before you fall on your ass."

"I'm fine dammit! Stop hovering!" said the tall man as he regained his balance to proceed with a slightly unsteady gait toward the kitchen.

"I knew you shouldn't have gone to work! Why the hell couldn't you just stay home and rest like a normal person? Never mind, don't answer that. I used the word 'normal'; it obviously doesn't apply here."

"Just lost my balance, that's all. No big deal. I'm fine Danny." muttered a very annoyed McGarrett; annoyed that he'd lost his balance and annoyed at his partner's, to him, smothering concern.

Steve huffed in dismissal but as he took another step there was a slight wobble to it. Danny, of course, didn't miss it.

"That's it!" said Danny, "You've got yourself a house guest for another night whether you like it or not. If you can't even walk without training wheels, someone needs to make sure you get some rest and, you know, recover or something."

Steve, mostly in defiance, stood up as straight as possible and with as much dignity as possible made his way to the kitchen; Danny shadowing him just in case of a repeat of his attempted face-plant.

"Would you please quit following me like a yapping poodle!"

"Poodle? You think I'm a poodle?" Danny looked highly offended- apparently by the comparison to a fluffy dog - but the 'yapping' part wasn't new. Steve had accused him of it many times previously.

"No, not a poodle." amended the tall man. "Maybe one of those terriers. You know, the ones that don't know that most of the rest of the world is bigger than they are but they keep at it anyway." McGarrett smiled, despite the pounding in his head.

"Well, excuse me all to hell for trying to make sure that my best friend, who's got to be the most stubborn fucking mule on the face of the earth by-the-way, won't fall over unconscious and injure himself - yet again!"

"Danny . . . "began McGarrett, horrified to hear the word come out of his own mouth as a sort of Gracie-like whine. _When did he turn into a ten-year old?_

"Danny? What?" snorted the detective, "Danny thank you for worrying that I don't go into a coma? Danny, thank you for making sure I don't die in my sleep? Danny, thank you for driving my concussed ass home? What is it?"

Knowing he would get nowhere with his belligerent, (rightly so), partner; the SEAL finally just settled on a simple "Thank you."

"Well," huffed the blonde, "If you wanna put it that way . . . you're welcome."

Taking Steve's arm, he tugged him the rest of the way into the kitchen to park him in one of the chairs at the small table. "Stay!" he said as he went to the cupboard to get a glass and fill it with water from the tap.

Picking up the two prescription bottles that still sat on the counter, he double checked the dosages for each one and shook out the appropriate quantity of pills into his palm before returning to his more than thrashed looking partner.

"Take these." he ordered in his best stern Daddy Danny voice as he handed the meds and the water to the tired looking man.

"Yes sir." said Steve with a small smile as he threw the pills into his mouth and chased them with several gulps of water.

"Those pain pills are gonna kick-in in a few minutes and knock you on your ass so you need to get said ass into bed before you fall asleep sitting up. I'm not gonna carry you. You're still too damned heavy."

"Have to take care of Cujo first." sighed Steve getting ready to get up to go find the cat's water dish and food bowl to replenish them. As they'd been engaged in their 'discussion' the little grey cat had been anxiously winding around the legs of the chair and giving short distressed sounding little chirps.

"I can do that, just get up to bed before you fall over. If you think you're going to work tomorrow buddy, think again."

Danny was surprised when Steve only nodded and began to carefully make his way toward the stairs. Calling over his shoulder as he ascended toward his room, he said, "Danny, you have to scoop the litter box too. If it goes for one more day, he'll stage a protest by taking a dump under the coffee table. Trust me, you don't want that."

"Of course I have to clean up after the little monster!" muttered the detective under his breath. "First I have to look after one animal and then take care of the other. What have I done in a past life that makes this one so friggin' miserable?"

Torn between his concern for his chosen human and getting fed, Cujo had decided not to follow Steve to the bedroom. The little cat sat curiously observing the loud man. He even talked to himself when his human wasn't in the room. That was strange. Usually, there had to be another human in the room to talk to. He wondered if the loud man ever _didn't_ talk. Maybe just when he was asleep?

Stopping his pondering over the strange behavior of humans, he began to meow loudly to be fed. It didn't matter who fed him, he just wanted food now!

"Hold your horses you little bastard. I'm getting your dinner." Growled Danny going to the cupboard he knew held assorted tins of cat food. Pulling open the cabinet door, he wasn't really surprised to find them arranged on the shelf alphabetically by flavor. "Oh, Steven . . . " he said to himself as he felt Cujo roughly bumping his legs. The fractious animal had even begun the threatening sounds he liked to make when he wanted something in a hurry.

It was later than usual this time and he was really hungry. Perhaps a nip on the ankle would make the man move faster?

"Hey! No you don't! If you bite me, you'll never see the contents of a Friskies can again! I'm not the friggin' Cat Lady. If you wanna eat, you're going to have to wait for me to put this disgusting stuff into a dish."

Keeping an eye on the cat that hovered around his feet as he hurried to plop the gross looking mush, (or _paté _as it was so named on the label), into Cujo's dish, he quickly took the earthenware bowl and placed it onto the plastic placemat by the back door_. It's a wonder he only has a placemat, SuperSEAL is such a neat freak, there's probably a napkin and finger-bowl somewhere as well,_ thought the detective.

The cat quickly stopped his threats and dived at the dish, purring loudly as he became engrossed in his dinner.

Okay, onto the next chore . . .

He went to the broom closet and found the sack of kitty litter and the slotted scoop. He was unfortunately familiar with this chore. He and Rachel had a cat once and it was a sweet-natured thing that Danny didn't mind taking care of. Unfortunately, they hadn't had her spayed in time and had wound up with a large batch of kittens to find homes for. Rachel herself had gotten pregnant by the time the last kitten was safely in a new home and Danny had just read an article about toxoplasmosis – a disease that could be transmitted by cat feces to pregnant women with sometimes disastrous results. He knew he may be overreacting but he wasn't going to take any chances.

He also found a home for the mother cat, (after making sure she'd been spayed). He still got Christmas cards from the little girl who'd taken her. The girl was about to graduate high school and the damned cat was probably ancient in cat years but was still kicking. That made him wonder how much longer he was going to be tortured by his partner's evil little wolverine. With his luck, Satan's Spawn would live to be ninety.

Cujo had finished his meal and sat watching curiously as the loud man began the task his human usually took care of. He watched carefully as though making sure the loud man did the job to his approval. He liked a clean place to do his business. If it wasn't clean, he used the place under the flat thing with legs. It was strange how quickly his box with the crunchy ground in it became clean after that. The tall man also seemed very annoyed with him for some reason. Oh well.

"What the hell have you been eating!" gagged Danny as he finished scooping the last of the litter and tied a knot into the plastic bag he'd dumped it in before going to the back door and dropping it into the lidded can than sat right outside. "Ugh! They could weaponize that stuff!"

Cujo only sat looking at him before beginning his post meal bath, making sure to carefully clean his ears and whiskers. The man never stopped talking!

….

He watched from the window as the black and white slowly rolled past the coffee shop. It was only about fifteen minutes since it had been by the last time.

Someone must have figured out his choice of targets. That wasn't good.

Now, maybe he'd have to find another way to make people pay attention. It wasn't daylight yet. He sat contemplating his intended target for a moment. He knew there were other venues for his campaign. There were other coffee shops. It was just that this one seemed to be a locus for those who were lured by the evils of technology. He'd even bet that most of them had never even touched the sensuous surface of a patinaed leather binding, never inhaled the heady aroma of knowledge on the printed page. It was a shame. There were missing so much.

He put the Prius into gear and silently glided away from the scene. He'd have to talk to Kiki. She'd know what to do.

…..

The morning had dawned misty but warm. Danny finished setting up the coffee pot and scribbled his notes before grabbing up the keys and striding toward the door, a small cat trotting behind him.

"No you don't. I'm not the kitty chauffeur today. You're staying with the Cat Lady. Your mission should you chose to accept it is to keep your idiot owner from leaving the house." He wasn't sure exactly who owned who but he'd used the word anyway. The cat actually seemed to be listening to him.

Cujo stared up at him curiously as the loud man did the same; staring back at the little cat before him.

"Why am I talking to you again? It's not like you'd cooperate even if you could understand me. Your 'mission' since we met has been to make me your own personal chew toy. Besides, getting a cat to do anything you want it to is like getting Steve to pay attention to procedure or wait for back-up. No wonder you two get along so well."

"Later fence-rabbit." he said as he strode toward the door, making sure to set the alarm as he left. "Keep the Neanderthal here and in one piece, huh." He called back over his shoulder to the little feline sitting at the door.

_Did the loud man ever stop talking?_

…..

He stretched and turned over; eyes searching for the digital display of his alarm clock that usually sat on the nightstand. Not finding it for some reason, he fumbled for his watch that should have been sitting there as well.

Okay, his drug addled mind reasoned, Danny had taken the clock out of the room. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and blinked sleepily toward the light that knifed through the small gap in the drapes. It was awfully bright.

Shit. As his mind began to function once again, he realized it must be nearly noon. Still not wanting to actually stare into such brightness just in case his headache should return, he staggered from the bed toward the bathroom.

….

Kono rummaged through her desk drawer looking for the thumb drive she knew must be in there. She hadn't seen it for a couple of days but hadn't bothered to look for it. If any of the guys found it and opened it to see what was on it . . . well, it would be embarrassing to say the least. "It must be here somewhere!" she muttered as she blew her wayward locks out of her eyes.

There'd actually been quite a few things that had gone missing lately: her puka shell bracelet that her aunt had given her, the hair clip, oh yeah and her favorite pen. She knew the guys would be loath to wander off with it since it was bright pink and had glittery rhinestones on its cap. Hmm.

….

Kiki saw the number that came up on the I.D. screen and frowned. He wasn't supposed to be calling her. If anyone ever caught on, they'd both be in a shitload of trouble.

Taking the phone outside to the deserted office patio, she sat in one of the metal chairs under an umbrella and hit the accept button.

"Baby, why are you calling?" she asked trying to sound as though it was a welcome interruption.

"I . . . I . . . I think they've found out!" came the panicky stammer.

"What! What makes you think they've found out!" talk about panic! Kiki could feel her heart speed up.

"There . . . there was a patrol car that came bye just as I pulled up to the next place. It slowed down and shined one of those lights all around the building before it left then it came back again a few minutes later and did the same thing!"

"They didn't see you did they?" she asked, trying to ignore the tightening in her stomach. Even though the guy was practically her puppet, he was crazy enough to blow this all to hell.

"No, I don't think so. Nobody was following me. I was very careful."

"Just sit tight baby. We'll work this out. You can't stop now. You still have a job to do. Remember, you and I are a team baby."

"Oh . . . okay. I know you feel the same way I do Kiki. I know you won't let me get caught but this . . . this just kind of threw me a bit."

"Don't worry baby. You know I'll protect you." she purred reassuringly, _God, this guy was a nut case,_ "We have a deal right? I'll get in touch with my sources and see if they've figured anything out. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Just wait for me to call you. I'll let you know what I find out."

Touching the 'end' icon, she set the phone on the table and reached into her pocket for her pack of Marlborough Lights. It was a nasty and increasingly expensive habit but right now she needed a puff. Taking the engraved lighter out of her pocket, she lit up; glancing toward the doorway that leads to the office. This was a no smoking area but members of the outlaw band of nicotine addicts would still sneak out here when they got a chance to take a quick hit. Just let one of those 'No Smoking' Nazis say something to her right now. She wasn't in a good mood to say the least. Now she was worried. Picking up the phone once again, she dialed Mickey.

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**For a change, actually have an idea as to what's going into the next chapter. Not promising anything but the update should be a bit sooner provided husband, ninja cats, and RL stay off my back.**

**Reviews would be most encouraging.**


	12. Rapacious Rabbits

Chapter 12

**Here's the next. For whatever reason, this story has proven difficult to write but your comments have helped immensely in maintaining momentum - no matter how feeble at the moment. Please know your encouragement has kept this going when I felt like it would be best to write an apology and chuck the thing.**

**Mistakes are those of Imaginary Beta. She's also having a hard time with this so she gets to keep her chocolate rations this week to keep up her strength.**

**Note: There are references to things that happened in previous Cujo stories but it's not necessary to read them first.**

**Disclaimer: If I made money from this, I could afford to run the air-conditioner all day. At least the heat is keeping ninja cats off the keyboard but for some unexplainable reason they like to glue their fur to sweaty skin. Cats, meh.**

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Rapacious Rabbits

"Sorry Phil. Gotta take this. Keep on with the briefing." he said as he glanced at the I.D. display on his cell and waved apologetically to the gathering of cops before stepping out into the hallway.

Brotman almost rolled his eyes but nodded and went back to addressing fellow detectives and those in uniform gathered in the conference room. After all, there wasn't that much info to impart. Mickey had just told them of the increased surveillance of all coffee shops especially the ones located near bookstores for some reason they've yet to figure out but it seemed to make Five-0 happy.

"Mickey sweetie, have you heard anything new about the murders?"

Kilkenny almost groaned as he heard her voice. It was a tossup of emotions right now. He wanted to be back in her bed but he wasn't thrilled that she should be calling him at this moment.

"Kiki", hissed the HPD detective, "You know you're not supposed to call me during working hours. I'm in the middle of a meeting."

"Mickey sweetie, I'm sorry but I heard a rumor about increased patrols of some of the shops. Why only some of them?"

"Where did you hear that from?" asked Kilkenny, surprised the news had traveled so quickly.

"You know I have my sources." he heard her honeyed reply.

"Well, as long as your other sources aren't sharing your bed." he said, only half-jokingly.

"You know you're the only one." she purred

"Yeah, and I believe in the Easter Bunny too."

"Mickey, don't be a jerk, just answer the question." she said, voice not quite so fond this time. "I know you want me. Our little arrangement can always be changed you know."

"You really are a bitch aren't you?" he said not without humor. _Her feistiness was such a turn-on._

"Yeah, but right now, I'm your bitch."

Sighing because he couldn't deny his need, he told her what he knew.

**...**

This wasn't his ideal target but it was the one he and Kiki had agreed on.

From the sidewalk he peered through the large window in the storefront shop. The technician was in the process of taking the metal cover off of a computer. It appeared to be held on by several screws and the bearded kid looked frustrated with it.

He really didn't want to do this reconnaissance in daylight. It was much easier to be identified and captured in the light. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and went into the shop. Almost immediately, he recognized the security cameras were going to be easy to get at and disable. He just had to wait for the right time to make his move.

…**.**

David Wilson Matsui, the tall handsome governor's aide smiled to himself as he thought about his upcoming firearms lesson. Sure, he admired Five-0's commander in the most basic of ways: the muscles, the long eyelashes, the blinding smile, etc. but he also admired the man for his reputation as a tough, smart, pretty much fearless, cop.

He was also very much aware that besides being undeniably hot, the guy is undeniably straight. It would be futile to harbor any hope of something more than firearms training. Sighing in resignation, he took the sleek gun from its case and double checking to make sure there was no round in the chamber, sighted down the barrel. It was certainly a nice gun; at the very least it was an expensive one. He wouldn't even have bought it if he was at all confident in the substitute for Rick the Governor's regular bodyguard.

The new guy, Jake, seemed to be more of a cowboy than anything else no matter how highly recommended he came. The fact the guy actually wore cowboy boots and a gigantic silver belt buckle with his suit didn't make him any more likely to change his opinion anytime in the near future.

He'd make sure to pay attention to any wisdom McGarrett would care to impart. He took his duties as the governor's aide seriously and genuinely liked the stern but fair man. Though it wasn't really part of the job description, he felt no hesitance in doing his best to keep his boss safe from harm.

Anyway, as far as McGarrett goes, he knew he'd be learning from the best . . . and the scenery is certainly a nice bonus.

…**.**

"Kono? Have you seen my comb? I know I left it here but I haven't seen it in at least a couple days. Can't find it anywhere."

"Cuz, it's only a plastic comb. It costs what? Fifty cents?" answered Kono from the doorway to her cousin's office.

"Yeah, but you know how when you find something that's perfect, you don't want to lose it?"

"Okay cuz, you're scaring me now. If you're going to be as OCD as the boss, I'm going back to Honolulu P.D."

Chin Ho Kelly snorted in dismissal of the empty threat and continued searching through the waste basket; thinking perhaps it had fallen off his desk and into the small plastic trash receptacle that sat next to it. The comb was only the latest of things to go missing from the office. He'd hate to think that someone on the cleaning crew would take something that didn't belong to them but he couldn't come up with anyone else who'd have access. Besides, almost none of the stuff had any value.

"That's like the tenth thing that's gone missing in the last couple of weeks. Nothing important but it's certainly puzzling." he said as he scowled at the banana peel he ran across. He never put stuff like that in his own trash basket.

"I know. I'm still missing my favorite pen and a couple of other things." replied Kono

"You mean that sparkly pink pen Gracie gave you for your birthday? I don't think any one of us guys would even think of walking off with it and Lori's still away at that profiler's conference in D.C. Besides, isn't she's a little too uptight to carry around a Hello Kitty glitter pen?"

Kono raised her eyebrows at the observation but cracked a smile. Lori could be a little tight-assed at times but she liked her anyway. Who wouldn't like a woman who could fire an RPG yet scream like a girl when she saw a mouse?

Unable to shed any light for Chin, she resumed her progress toward her own office. She had to find that thumb drive. It was worrying her now. What if one of the guys saw what was on it, she'd never live it down.

…**.**

Steve hunted around and under the bed for his watch. He'd been so out of it with the headache, exhaustion and the meds last night he wasn't a hundred-percent sure he'd put it on the nightstand as he usually did. After sleeping soundly for nearly eight uninterrupted hours his headache was gone but he moved about gingerly so as not to provoke a relapse of the pain.

Cujo watched his human crawl around on the floor. Maybe he wanted to play with the toys he'd left there?

Finding only a bottle cap, a pen top and a chewed up shoelace but no watch, Steve gave up the search and went back to the bathroom to shower and shave. The cat that had been practically glued to him since he'd awakened trotted along right behind him.

Pulling supplies from the medicine cabinet, the face that looked back at him in the mirror looked slightly better than it had. He knew he was still on the pale side. The bruising had finally settled on a dark mottled bluish purple but any swelling was gone now.

Cujo jumped onto the sink counter to stare as he peeled off the loose bandage, (the one Danny had called a maxi-pad), to fling it accurately into the waste basket in the corner.

Hunting instinct kicking-in, the cat looked about to leap after the flying thing but stayed where he was only staring intently at the wastebasket for a bit before chirping then going back to staring at his human.

Steve laughed at the serious evaluation he seemed to be getting from the animal that sat on the sink counter. Curious about everything, there wasn't a closet, drawer or cupboard in the house or at the office the little animal hadn't explored. One time, he'd almost been locked in the gun safe. If he hadn't seen the tip of the wolverine's tail just as he was about to push the door shut, there would have been one very sorry little cat.

Leaning more closely toward the mirror, the tall man inspected the stitches. They were still a little gruesome looking so he'd have to put another bandage on the healing cut; just one that wasn't so fucking huge.

The stitches could come out perhaps tomorrow. He'd pull them out himself; there was no need to go back to the doctor to have it done. Not in the least happy about having to be nearly scalped to get the laceration taken care of he looked sideways at the cat who was still intently observing his actions.

"Stop staring at me cat. You're the one responsible for this weird-assed haircut. You know that don't you?"

The animal only looked back at him with an innocent expression and without comment.

"Someday that streak of curiosity is going to get you into big trouble. Remember what happened when you stowed away in Lori's big duffle and wound up at the Governor's Ball? You probably even thought it was fun until you went for that swim in the harbor huh?"

Cujo now had an expression as though he was trying to figure out what the words meant but he still didn't reply.

"You've gotta get that under control before you get into serious trouble. Trust me buddy."

Steve went about the rest of his routine while directing further remarks to his one-cat-audience; not in the least uncomfortable with talking to a 'fence rabbit' as Danny had taken to calling the little animal. At least the cat didn't criticize or rant about anything . . . and he didn't require a daily malasada fix or fight over who gets to drive the Camaro.

Cujo squawked in annoyance as he was gently tossed back into the bedroom and the door was closed behind him. Another second later and he could hear the hiss of the water that he knew came out of the wall in the tiny room with the almost see-through door. He still didn't understand why his human didn't want to share the falling water with him. There was lots of it.

…

It was almost lunchtime and his stomach growled loudly. As soon as Matt gets back he's gonna go get one of those new burgers he'd seen on TV. If only it could be fed to him by that incredibly hot chick in that commercial. She was scarfing one down as she sat on the beach while wearing the tiniest bikini ever. Now that he thought of it, screw the food. Just bring him the chick.

His fantasy was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. _Crap._

The little guy in front of the counter was staring at him expectantly. Clearing his thoughts of bacon cheeseburgers and buxom females, Carl quickly went to see what he wanted.

Working at an electronics store wasn't his ideal job, (that would be samurai warrior), but it provided him with perks like access to the latest tech and games. That made him a little happier about not be able to make his living as an ancient Japanese warrior but waiting on these geeks was the absolute worst part of his job.

"Can I help you?" he inquired as the little guy looked up at him through what seemed inch-thick eyeglasses. _Doesn't he know about lasik?_ thought Carl.

"I was wondering . . . do you have a phone that just makes and answers calls?" came the surprisingly low-pitched and robust voice from the small man.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, one that doesn't take pictures or play games?"

"Oh . . . umm . . . maybe one of the older basic models. Let's see here." With that Carl went to get the key to open the sliding doors to the case where the phones were kept.

This latest customer is a weird little guy but there've been weirder. There was that one time a customer came in wearing a full-on astronaut outfit. It wasn't even friggin' Halloween! What was that about? Anyway, at least 'Neil Armstrong' had purchased a laptop before he left and he'd even let himself get talked into an extended warranty contract. Decent commission on that sale. Maybe he should think about setting up his own store near NASA?

Carl turned back to the counter, key in his hand but the little guy was gone. Oh well, they probably didn't have what he wanted anyway. Why would anyone want a cell that couldn't take pictures or access the net? Weird.

…

Tapping his foot impatiently as he sat listlessly eating a yogurt and trying to find something decent to watch on T.V., he sighed for the umpteenth time as he tried to somehow relax and sit still. He'd done the dishes, vacuumed, mopped the floor and mowed the lawn and it was still only ten-hundred hours. This sucked. As he clicked the remote again, the theme song for one of those stupid game shows blasted forth.

_All right! I've had it with this crap! There's was no way I can stay cooped-up any longer!_

Setting down the remote and the yogurt and picking up the phone, he dialed Kamekona.

_Danny will just have to deal dammit._

…**..**

"Brah, why you want to piss off the little haole?"

Steve only looked back at the extra large shrimp truck operator and rolled his eyes, (something he could do now that it wouldn't cause a bout of vertigo), before replying, "You know Danny. Doesn't matter what I do, it's going to piss him off."

"True dat but dis time you workin' at it. Aren't you s'posed to stay home and rest?"

"I agreed to stay home until I felt better", lied Steve.

"So, I guess you okay now?"

"Yeah, don't I look better?"

"Not really brah, your face still lookin' like it met the wrong end of a bat."

"Thanks for the kind words." said Steve with an annoyed glance at the driver.

"Still better than the little haole gonna give you."

The old jeep continued to rattle toward H.Q. He'd just have to deal with Danny's ire when he got there.

…

His human had left him again. He usually took him in the big rolling box when he went to the place with the shiny ground and lots of places to nap. That's where he always went in the daytime.

Grumbling to himself, he tunneled under the carpet and made his way to his special place where he kept his things. This time, he was adding to the pile.

The metal thing he'd found next to where his human slept was easy to carry. It had a big string around it though it was kind of heavy. His human usually had it around his paw and would look at it sometimes as though it was saying something to him. He couldn't understand why. It didn't make any noise most of the time except sometimes it chirped but he had no idea why it did that. The chirps would always make his human stop what he was doing and go do something else. Hmm.

…..

Danny looked up from his desk as he spotted the tall man trying to quietly achieve the safety of his office before anyone saw him come in.

Rising from his desk as he felt his blood pressure also rising, he exited his office and strode purposefully down the hallway to his partner's office.

Steve was trying to look busy; searching through his desk drawers and plopping several folders onto the top of his desk.

Without saying anything, Danny stood leaning against the doorway, hands in pockets watching the show.

"Steven?" was the one word he uttered

"What?" responded the man bracing for what he knew was coming.

"Didn't you agree to stay home today?"

"Tried."

"Tried?"

"Tried really hard actually but by the time I realized that if I scrubbed the linoleum any harder, I'd have to buy new flooring and there is absolutely nothing on daytime T.V. worth putting a bullet into my flatscreen over, I thought it would be better to come to work. Less expensive."

"So, you're feeling better?"

"Yup."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Your phone and keys are in your upper left-hand drawer. Chin finished tracking down the owners of the defunct bookstores and the report is in your email. Have fun."

"You're not going to give me a bad time about coming in? I feel kind of cheated."

"Not gonna give you a bad time if you feel better. Just glad you're okay."

"Oh . . . alright. Thanks." replied Steve, sounding both relieved and surprised

"Bye-the-way" smiled Danny, "Dave called to confirm your date on Tuesday."

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**This chapter had to be heavily re-worked when I realized I'd seriously screwed up the timeline. It actually turned into two chapters so the next should be up soon. PLEASE review. Still an incredibly cheap date.**


	13. Arrest and Development

**Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal**

**Chapter 13**

**Here's the next. I hope you like it. Not a lot of Cujo in this one but he'll have lots to do before the story ends. There may even be some odd alliances. **

**A sincere thank-you to those who reviewed, alerted and favorited. This story really needs the encouragement you've so very kindly provided. It's proven to be the most difficult to write so far. I apologize if it shows.**

**Disclaimer: No money made from this and, as yet, no response to my petition to become a volunteer body-make-up person for the show, (though with my luck they'd have me applying it to Kamekona). I love the big guy mind you and I myself am a bit on the 'fluffy' side but I'd have to buy a spray gun.**

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Arrest and Development

The heat wave seemed to have broken by the next morning. It was a bit cooler on the drive in. The man behind the wheel was happy that he could even comfortably wear a tie if he wanted to, (if the man next to him wouldn't threaten to cut it off his neck . . . again). Looking to his right, Danny was glad to see that Steve looked less pale than he had yesterday though the bruising had begun to turn yet another hue; this one the almost greenish color that morphs into the yellow displayed before it truly fades away.

So far, the ride this morning was a quiet one with both men lost in their own thoughts.

_What's the connection between the coffee shops and the bookstores?_ thought the man in the passenger seat as he pondered that question for what seemed the hundredth time. What was causing the feeling he'd missed something? There'd been nothing to discover in the backgrounds of the employees. Most were just kids trying to make ends meet while they went to school with varying degrees of success. Finally, feeling that he'd better take a break before he short-circuited what were left of his brain cells after the concussion, he sighed and addressed his friend. May as well stick to routine.

"I don't know why I have to have this stupid piece of tape on my head Danny! There's no need for it. The stitches can come out tomorrow." Steve had intended to leave off the bandage but, at Danny's insistence, had placed another, (though narrower and less obtrusive), over the still healing wound.

"You're going to scare people Steven or at the very least make them lose their lunch. Having to stare at a bald patch with enough stitches in it to assemble a Raggedy Ann doll is kind of gross."

"Oh, and staring at a maxi-pad as you called it is a whole lot better?"

Danny smiled. He'd forgotten what he'd named the gigantic bandage decorating the side of his partner's head but it did look like one; startlingly similar to what Rachel used to send him on errands for when they were married. "I know it offends your finely honed sense of fashion but just remember you have your grey mamba to thank for it."

"Yeah, I reminded him this morning actually."

"Steven, please don't tell me you talk to your cat." grimaced Danny

"What do you mean? Everyone talks to their cats."

"Yeah, if by everyone you mean little old ladies who collect plastic grocery bags and empty margarine containers."

"What's wrong with empty margarine containers?" asked the bandaged man, sounding at once curious and defensive.

"Oh! My! God! You do that too, don't you?"

"It's called recycling Danny!"

"If next time I pull up to the front of your house and I see those little wooden signs that say things like, 'Cats are just little people with fur' or 'My grandkids are the flowers in my garden', I'm going to keep on driving."

"What are you talking about! I know cats are animals and . . . I don't even have grandkids!"

"And you're never going to either. Cats, plastic bags and margarine cup collections being such chick magnets and all."

"Hey, I'm not the one worried about lack of female companionship. Besides, you're the one who wound up taking his sister to his senior prom!"

"I knew I never shoulda told you that story! You know that the girl I was going to take came down with a migraine!"

"Yeah, that was her story anyway. You could've at least picked someone who was a little more creative when she dumped your ass."

"Says the man who took his girlfriend to an Army/Navy surplus store to buy her a birthday gift."

"Hey! Cath loves the surplus store . . . and she's not my girlfriend!"

Chin and Kono were already there when their leader and his second-in-command arrived and walked right past them while still engaged in noisy dispute. The cousins only smiled and shook their heads. Despite the events that had the city nearly in a panic there were some things that never changed.

The squabbling continued until they separated to go to their respective offices; Steve intending to again go through that report from his profiler friend at the F.B.I. while Danny reread the one he'd gotten from Lori. The missing member of the team had left D.C. when the conference ended and was visiting relatives before returning to Honolulu. Danny had sent her the information gathered so far and she'd taken the time to work up a report to send to him.

They still had to make the connection between the coffee shops and the bookstores.

One by one, Chin and Kono worked their way through the list of bookstore owners, looking for the link. Steve was positive it existed and, at first, his team was as well but now despaired of ever finding what the hell it is.

Little did the cousins know that despite the usual entertainment value of the aftermath of Steve and Danny's early morning commute, the day already had a seriously downhill slant.

…**.**

There was no way he was going on this date with Dave Matsui. He picked up the phone for the third time intending to dial the number on the business card he'd pulled from his desk drawer. Dave had handed it to him when they made the uhh . . . date.

Danny had complicated matters yesterday when, in Steve's absence, he'd confirmed the appointment at the gun range on Tuesday.

_Danny's definitely headed for another search through several steaming dumpsters_, thought Steve darkly as his hand hovered over the keypad of his desk phone.

Over the years the commander had been aware there'd been admirers who were not female and though he certainly wasn't interested, it didn't bother him. Years of being in the military with the specter of Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell hanging over everyone meant there weren't as many openly gay people as in the civilian population but he'd never had any issues with anyone who is gay. Unfortunately, there still seemed to be too many who did have issues with it but he'd never been one of them.

There'd been that one time he'd had to correct a fellow SEAL who'd gotten a little too handsy at a post op get together. When Tim had sobered up, it was uncomfortable between them for a while but they'd eventually gotten past it. Steve had been invited to and had attended Tim's and John's commitment ceremony when D.A.D.T. had been repealed. It had been a joyous gathering of friends and fellow military both gay and straight.

Anyway, he's certainly not a homophobe and doesn't want to offend Dave but how is he going to explain the misunderstanding?

The most annoying part of this situation is that Danny is having way too much fun with it. Steve thinks his friend is being a jerk about not helping him find a polite way to get out of it. He knew this was one of those times when his partner's superior people skills would come in handy. As Danny had so frequently pointed out and he'd already suspected about himself for years, his own skills in that area are seriously lacking and really . . . how much more awkward could this get?

As if to rescue him from his own thoughts, the ring of an incoming call broke the silence.

"McGarrett" he answered as the I.D. showed him the call came from H.P.D.

"Steve!"

"Yeah Duke. What's going on?"

"Looks like there's been another one."

"Another coffee shop murder?" he asked with dread

"Looks like the others but this one's not even in a coffee shop."

"Damn! Where is it?"

"Electronics store on Twenty First Street." answered the cop.

"You sure it's our guy?"

"Same M.O.: nothing taken, no apparent motive, throat cut."

"What's the address?" asked McGarrett as he stood and picked up his badge and I.D.; clipping his gun into its holster as he strode quickly out of his office.

Duke relayed the information as Steve motioned to the cousins to follow him.

"Got another one!" he barked as he leaned into Danny's door before rushing toward the parking lot his partner hot on his heels.

…**.**

When the Camaro with Kono's Cruze behind it pulled up to the storefront location of Blue Lagoon Electronics and Computer Repair**, **KAEO's star reporter was already engaged in a heated discussion with a uniformed cop on the sidewalk in front of it. Locked in verbal combat, neither the woman nor the officer noticed Five-0's arrival.

"Dammit! How the hell did she get here so soon?" growled the tall man as he exited the Camaro. Chin and Kono glanced apprehensively at one another as they followed Steve and Danny to the source of the noisy exchange.

As the forebodingly grim commander strode toward her, Kiki looked up in anger with a muttered "Shit!"

"I've warned you before. You will be arrested if you persist in getting in the way at crime scenes. Now clear out!" said Five-0's leader as he strode up to the fuming reporter and the familiar uniformed cop.

"You can't make me leave! I have a job to do! Haven't you ever heard of Freedom of the Press!"

"I have heard of it yes but have you heard of the laws against impeding a law enforcement investigation?"

Turning toward the officer he asked, "What's going on with this woman, Miko?"

"Despite being ordered to stay back, she barged into the scene and walked through a puddle of blood and then tracked it back out to the walk." answered the red-faced Miko Kiliona already knowing if the reporter didn't back off immediately McGarrett would have her detained if not drawn and quartered.

With a barely concealed look of disgust, McGarrett barked "Arrest Ms. Kenworthy and book her for interfering with a police officer in the performance of his duty and for being an all-around pain in the ass. We'll let the station bail her out."

"You fucking asshole!" she yelled as she was led away by the now smirking Kiliona. "You're gonna pay for stopping a member of the press from doing her job."

"Ms. Kenworthy, you are about as much a member of the press as . . . "

"Steven, we've got more company." exclaimed Danny; gesturing toward the street.

Steve turned toward where Danny pointed and muttered, "Oh great" as another two news vans pulled up to the scene. It was odd they were so far behind KAEO's news crew. They jumped out to set-up their equipment as Talia, the little redheaded camerawoman, was busy getting shots of Kiki being arrested. Danny could actually see a smile on her face as she shouldered the camera and pointed it toward the enraged reporter. Kiki spotted her and going completely ballistic screamed, "You stupid bitch! Point that camera at the fucking crime scene! I'm gonna get your ass fired! I'm gonna get all your asses fired!"

Steve stood with arms crossed and a smug smile on his face as he watched Kiki being folded into the back of the black and white. He assumed she was threatening him as well. Let her do her worst. He didn't think Denning would give a rat's ass what the irate reporter wanted.

"This is gettin' old." said Danny as they walked toward the front door of the electronics store; not clarifying if he was commenting on the murder scene or the attitude of KAEO's finest as she was being busted and thrown into the back of a squad car.

They carefully avoided the still drying footprints that led away from the door and stepped around the pool of red that had collected just on the other side of the threshold.

The body lay behind the free standing display of brightly colored mousepads hanging on peghooks just inside the entrance.

He lay on his back; eyes filmed over and a surprised expression frozen on his face. There was a small screwdriver still clutched in one hand. The name badge pinned to his shirt read 'Matthew' and it had a smiley face sticker on it. The C.S.I.'s were busily unpacking their equipment also, having arrived just ahead of the last two news crews.

Just outside the doorway they heard someone loudly exclaim, "Oh God! Matt!"

"Danny, go outside and see what that's about." ordered Steve as he began his inspection of the scene. The disturbing scent of blood was strong in the now busy space. He was glad it was cooler today. In the heat, it would be even more unpleasant.

The detective stepped back out onto the sidewalk to see a distraught bearded youth who'd apparently dropped a cardboard carrier that had been holding two large Styrofoam cups of coffee. The brown liquid had splatted messily onto the kid's pant legs and then trailed across the walkway toward the gutter.

Reaching him in quick strides, Danny took his shoulder and steered him toward the patrol car parked at the curb a few feet away. He pulled open a rear door and had the young man sit with his legs dangling out onto the asphalt. With the kid's distraught and shaky appearance, Danny was worried he'd actually collapse before there was a chance to question him.

"I was only a couple minutes late!" moaned the ashen-faced boy.

Danny looked on in sympathy. This was going to be a long day for everyone except the victim.

…**.**

Several hours later, they'd gathered all they could gather and returned dejectedly to H.Q. Someone had turned on the television and streamed its images to the big screen in the main room where they stood gathered around the smart table. The latest murder was featured on every local station; preempting even the usual reruns of Gilligan's Island. No one had any doubt it would soon make it to the national news as well. At least two of the local channels had footage of Kiki Kenworthy as she was being stuffed into a squad car. Other than the newscaster's voiceover there was no audio to the clip but if one read lips, (or even if one didn't), it wasn't difficult to make out what she was saying.

Of course KAEO hailed her as an unjustly detained heroine. It was actually the station's news director who'd sent the video file to their competitors. It got their footage, credited or not, shown on the other stations and besides, he'd had enough of the overly ambitious viper's attitude. The last straw was when she'd threatened to have his best cameraperson fired for not shooting her 'good' side during a staged interview with a local politician. As far as he was concerned, the woman had no good side.

…

Doris McGarrett unlocked the front door and went quickly inside to disarm the alarm system. She was here to get the last of her stuff to take to her new place. Just a couple more boxes and a few pieces of clothing and, oh yeah, that box of costume jewelry she kept forgetting.

She looked around cautiously, trying to spot the evil little shithead that seemed to have a personal vendetta against her. Why Stevie would even put up with such a creature she had no idea.

Spotting neither hide nor hair of the feline, she set down her bag on the table beside the door and walked up the stairs to her now former bedroom. She'd insisted on taking Mary's old room instead of taking over the master bedroom she and John had once shared.

It didn't seem right to make Steve move out the room that was now his and . . . well, it just didn't seem right.

Entering her most recent ex-bedroom, she went directly to the closet to pull out the last two boxes of her belongings and grab the two jackets that hung there. Setting it all on the bed, she turned toward the dresser to get the jewelry box.

Uh oh. The lid was open.

…**.**

Now, gathered around the smart table, the team discussed what they'd found and, again, it wasn't much.

It was Danny that gave the first summation: "Despite not being a coffee shop this time, all indications are that it's probably the same killer. He's settled on a definite M.O. of disabling the surveillance cameras and waiting until the employees are opening for the day before using a knife to cut their throats."

"You think the killer waits inside the stores to ambush the employees when they come to open up?" asked Kono

"That's a good possibility. We haven't found anything that says he does but we haven't found anything that says otherwise." answered the Jersey detective.

"The only reason this murder was discovered later in the day is because the electronics shop didn't open until ten. We're still waiting for Max to confirm the T.O.D. but it looks like this one was dead for a bit longer than the others before the body was discovered." stated Steve

"Danny and I compared the report we got from Lori and the one from my friend at The Bureau and the two were nearly identical in the profile of the killer. We're probably looking for a middle-aged white guy who may have issues with a younger lifestyle. Almost all of the victims were in their late teens or early twenties except for that one store manager and he may _just_ have been collateral damage."

Added the Jersey detective, "There was most likely some sort of trauma, physical or psychological that triggered the killings."

"Well, Denning's going to lose it over this one. Actually, the entire city may lose it over this one." said Chin glumly

"Yeah, if coffee shops aren't safe and now electronics stores are on the killer's radar; things are gonna get pretty tense." added Kono

"Shit" echoed both Steve and Danny at the same time; no doubt expressing the sentiment of all four people gathered around the smart table.

…

The sleek little cat sat at the open doorway watching the tall female. She'd just picked up the box that held the sparkly things. Well, there weren't as many sparkly things in it as there used to be. Many of them were now in his hiding place. She couldn't have them. They were his now.

The female turned toward him with an angry look on her face. He was familiar with angry expressions. They didn't scare him. The loud man wore one quite often.

…

"McGarrett" answered the SEAL in his usual abrupt way.

"Stevie!"

"Mom?"

"Could you please come and get your little monster away from me!"

"What?"

"He's got me trapped in the closet and he won't let me out."

"Well, you did squirt him with perfume. I'm sure he hasn't forgotten it. He's got a pretty long memory for stuff like that."

"Whatever! Just come get the little asshole before I have to do something we're both going to regret."

"You wouldn't hurt him!"

"Don't be so sure. The little bastard stole my jewelry!"

"What do you mean he stole your jewelry? What would a cat want with jewelry?"

Danny's face began to crack into a very, very, large smile as he listened to one side of the conversation. _Yes, there is a God._

"When I got here, the box I keep it in was open on top of the dresser and half the stuff in it was missing. He's already made off with my earrings twice! It couldn't be anyone else. The alarm system you've got here is loud enough to alert Baltimore when it goes off."

"Mom, I've got a case. I can't come home right now. You'll just have to deal with him."

"Steven."

"I can't. I have work to do."

"One word for you."

"What word is that?"

"Leash."

Turning to Danny, he said, "Give me the keys. I'll be right back. Have to rescue my mom from Cujo."

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**No promises about ETA for next chapter but it shouldn't be too far away. Actually know what I want to put into it for a change.**

**Please review if you're so inclined.**


	14. Strange Brew

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 14

**Here's the next. Many thanks to those who've stuck with this and have been kind enough to review. I really appreciate hearing from you and have kept your suggestions in mind while writing. You may recognize your ideas incorporated into this story as it unfolds.**

**Mistakes may abound. Imaginary Beta is tired and annoyed. Ninja cats won't let her use her desk as they insist it's their new summer home. Time for some tough love but don't know if she can pull it off.**

**Disclaimer: Since we don't get paid for this anyway CBS could save big bucks by letting the lot of us write and direct. Future Emmy or not, I'm afraid there are some in this group who would be far too distracted to get any work done.**

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Strange Brew

She wasn't going to get away this time. This time, he was going to make sure the tall female would never spray awful stuff on him again. He was going to keep the sparkly things too. She would never find them.

He watched as the female searched through the box he'd taken the sparkly things from. She looked angry. He knew what angry looked like; he just didn't care.

The tall female was somehow connected to his human but he liked his human. He didn't like the tall female. He is still angry about being made to smell so unlike himself. It wasn't as bad as that time he was sprayed by the strange two-colored animal that sort of looked like a cat but not. That time he was taken to a place with dogs. DOGS!

The water with the bubbles in it actually felt good and afterward he smelled sort of like flowers and had a fluffy toy attached to the thing around his neck. It was nice.

He still had a job to do. He was going to chase the female away. She was going to be sorry she sprayed him. He crouched with muscles bunched; ready to pounce.

…..

Even before Steve entered the house he could hear the familiar yowl. Usually, the terrifying sound was emitted when Danny was in the vicinity but there'd been other times when the frightening sound had wafted on tense air.

There'd been that time Cujo had attacked several armed members of a drug cartel and then helped capture Kono's sleazeball boyfriend, its leader, who had slimed his way into her affections.

Of course, the power wasn't always used for good . . . like now for instance.

"Hey buddy." he greeted the fuzz-tailed animal standing guard outside the hall closet. Cujo didn't react at all to his human's entrance. "Don't you think you're being a little too intense here?"

The only answer was another menacing growl directed at his prisoner.

"Steven!" came a muffled voice, (a really pissed sounding muffled voice), from the other side of the closet door. "Get that little monster away from the door and let me out of here!"

"Yeah mom. Hold on. I've got him."

"Hurry up dammit! It's stuffy in here!"

He knew better than to just try to pick up the angry little wolverine when he was so obviously agitated. It was dangerous to be in the same zip code once the bundle of doom was locked and loaded. Unfortunately, they'd all found that out the hard way.

He'd have to question Doris when he had more time to find out what it was that set Cujo off and made him want to dispatch his mother in a, no doubt, very painful and bloody way. He supposed it had to do with the perfume thing. Cujo had a very long memory for stuff like that. Hell, even the Mafia, didn't have that long a memory for slights and disses. He tried not to smile as he leaned down to address the cat – not too closely mind you.

"Hey buddy, why don't we go see if there's a can of tuna with your name on it huh?"

The cat only continued his growling as he crouched at his post in front of the closet door, dilated pupils making yellow eyes nearly black with menace. He was on a mission. The tall female was going to die!

Frowning at the bristling and unyielding little wolverine, the tall man said, "I don't have time for this crap right now. You and Doris are just gonna have to settle your differences later."

The cat didn't take his eyes off the closet door. She had to come out some time. He'd be ready when she did.

With a huff of frustration the SEAL hustled off to the kitchen. Hopefully, he'd find a can of tuna in the cupboard. As far as Cujo was concerned the stuff was like kitty heroin. Steve was sure the furry little predator wouldn't hesitate to scamper over his dead body to get to a can of Starkist.

Frantically rummaging through the cupboard, there was no tuna to be found but due to Danny's recent visit, if cats liked Pringles and onion dip, he'd have had it covered.

"Dammit!" he muttered, "Now isn't the time to run out." Without having the lure, he'd just have to pick him up and risk being bitten or scratched. The cat showed no mercy when locked on target and would react badly to anyone who tried to deter him from his quest for annihilation of the enemy.

"Stevie!" called his mother from her closet prison.

"Yeah, yeah. Sit tight mom. I'm getting Cujo squared away." He opened one last cupboard and found something that may actually be of help.

Ahah!" he exclaimed. Danny had left a can of kippers when he'd dropped Gracie off one morning on his way to court when it was his turn to testify on a drug bust. Rather than 'babysitting', the detective had termed it a play date as his partner and his daughter spent all morning swimming and building sandcastles until he returned.

The kippers were explained when Danny told him that Gracie had gotten a taste for them from her mother. Steve just thought they were gross.

Scrabbling in the drawer for a can opener, he quickly found it and rushed back into the room with the now opened tin of fish. Holding it toward the cat, at first he only got a low growl from the focused feline.

"Stevie! It's stuffy in here!"

"Workin' on it Mom, just stay put another minute!"

Cujo had just caught a whiff of the kippers. He now looked torn between pouncing on and slaughtering his sworn enemy or investigating the wonderful new aroma that wafted from the metal thing his human held out to him. _Decisions, decisions._

Steve watched fascinated. He could almost see the little wheels turning. Finally, with a small squeak, Cujo gave up his quest to decimate Doris and followed the can held out toward him as Steve backed into the kitchen. Setting the container down onto the floor on the other side of the tile topped island he circled back to the door he carefully closed behind him and quickly stepped back to the hallway to release his mother from her confinement.

"All clear Mom. You can come out now." he called

"Finally!" she muttered as she cautiously opened the door to peer carefully out, her face flushed as she pushed damp bangs off her forehead.

"Why do you even keep that little monster!" she said accusingly to her son who stood arms crossed and with an amused expression on his face.

"You musta caught him in a bad mood."

"Bad mood! The little bastard tried to kill me!"

"Calm down okay. You didn't get bitten." he tried to placate

"Only because I was senior girl's hundred-meter sprint champion at Hamilton High."

"You were?"

"Yeah when I was . . . that's not the point!"

"Well. You're safe. I have to get back to work."

"Where is he?"

"In the kitchen. Just don't go in there right now."

"You really need to get rid of that animal."

"Mom. I'm not getting rid of Cujo. You sound like Danny."

"Well, maybe he and I agree on this one."

"You can both stop your campaign. The cat isn't going anywhere."

"We'll see."

…..

"Why an electronics store this time? What's the connection?" mused Danny aloud as the four of them stood staring up at the map displayed on the big screen.

The red dots scattered on it indicated where murders had occurred and the green dots current or former book store locations. It looked like some sort of demented Christmas display.

"Kono, put up_ all _of the chain's locations and color them in blue. Keep the murder scenes red." directed Steve as the willowy detective's fingers deftly tapped away and several more blue dots magically appeared on screen.

"You want the coffee shops that aren't part of the chain Boss?" she asked

"Yeah, just make them a different color." he answered, brows bunching together as he stared intently at the screen while he leaned his hips against the smart table and bit his lower lip in thought.

A series of orange dots now popped up.

"Now, put in the locations of electronics stores and repair shops." he ordered

Another series of dots appeared, this time colored purple.

The map of Honolulu and vicinity now looked like someone had thrown a random handful of confetti at it.

Eyes narrowing in laser focus, Steve moved to stand in front of the screen and after a moment stabbed a finger toward where the green dots and the blue ones seemed to converge most closely.

"There and there." he announced. "Those are the places we need to stake out." He'd indicated two places where the blue and green dots nearly overlapped one another.

"Why there?" asked Danny, "What's your theory?"

"I think someone has a big issue with bookstores being located so closely to coffee shops for some reason."

The others wore skeptical and/or puzzled expressions as he continued.

"I think there's a connection between them."

"What about Blue Lagoon electronics? It's certainly not a coffee shop." said the now clearly skeptical Jersey detective

"No, but there is a bookstore almost next door. It's a gut feeling I can't yet explain. There's something about the two in juxtaposition that triggers the murders."

"Still don't see it." said Danny as he too scanned the screen carefully but to him they were still just multicolored dots that revealed nothing of motive.

"Chin, didn't you say that two nights ago there'd been a report of a suspicious vehicle being seen in a location overlooking one of the coffee shops?"

"Yeah, a newspaper delivery guy spotted a light colored Prius with someone sitting in it on a rise over one of the locations but he didn't have time to get the plates before it drove off. It happened about half past four in the morning when he was on his way to drop off bundles of the morning rags to various locations – most of them coffee places."

"Might mean something. He thought it suspicious enough to report." said Chin

"It was a Prius? What the hell kind of pussy-pants murderer drives a Prius? It's probably a false alarm." voiced Danny

"What do you have against Prius drivers?" asked Steve in mild bewilderment.

"I've always been suspicious of drivers of cars that make almost no sound. Seems kind of stealthy to me. Like they're just gonna sneak up on you and run over your ass because you can't hear them but they don't have the balls to just confront you."

"Are you kidding? At this point, if Mother Theresa was spotted wandering around before seven a.m., eco-friendly car or not, she'd be reported as suspicious." said Steve looking annoyed

"Yeah, the town's a little jumpy right now to say the least." said Kono as she concentrated on the colored dots, "Murderers behind every palm tree so to speak. It's really starting to affect tourism since it made the national news a few days ago."

"Well, at least we haven't heard from Denning for at least the last . . . oh . . . twenty minutes?" observed Danny

"Which location was it?" asked the SEAL, ignoring the chatter as he continued to stare at the dots.

"The one at the corner of Makakilo and Kinohi." supplied Chin

Without disturbing the map already displayed, the sinewy Hawaiian used the smart table to pull up the location and then overlaid it on the big screen.

"I'll be damned." he exclaimed, "It's only about a block away from Blue Lagoon Electronics."

Danny, Chin and Kono looked as though the pattern had suddenly become clear as day as three sets of eyebrows hoisted toward hairlines.

"I'll be damned." the three muttered as one

….

Exiting the grim building to blink into the bright sunset, she took an appreciative breath of air that didn't smell like the place she'd spent most of her day.

She was humiliated. Honolulu City Jail was worse than she could have imagined. There was the order to strip and then after the body search there was the shower and delousing stuff. Then the icing on the cake was having to don the hideous uniform worn by the inmates of said institution. She'd been locked up like a common criminal! Many of her 'sisters' had been picked up for soliciting, a few for theft and one for setting fire to her boyfriend. (Her co-workers would have thought she fit right in).

If she ever gets the chance to get her hands around that prick McGarrett's neck . . . !

It had taken them almost eight hours to bail her out. She was unaware that no one at the station had broken any land-speed records to do so. She also wasn't aware that nearly the entire news staff had high-fived one another and laughed giddily upon re-watching the video of her arrest . . . several times.

The station manager had frowned at his staff, intending to censure their behavior before finally bursting into laughter himself at the vision of their enraged star reporter as she mouthed curses at someone off camera while being escorted from the scene and ultimately stuffed into an HPD squad car.

"Alright.", he said, "Who wants to volunteer to fetch Kiki from the pokey?" Not a hand was raised or a peep heard.

…

Despite having to endure Kiki's tirade, life wasn't all bad for the little camerawoman. She'd had a friendly conversation with that cute blonde Five-0 detective. The one she'd warned not to take Kiki up on her offer. Actually, she'd given him her phone number along with the invitation to give her a call sometime next week. Things looked promising.

….

"Hi baby. Just had to tell you what a good job you're doing. People are really paying attention now."

"It's so good to hear your voice Kiki. I was getting worried. Mrs. Quong, my neighbor, said that she'd seen you being arrested on television. You know I don't have a TV and I didn't see it but are you okay?

"I'm fine." She answered, annoyed even having to think about the incident. At least she got some publicity out of it. If she can spin it right, she may even come off as the heroine in it all. "Sometimes the police are a little too enthusiastic is all." she soothed.

"Don't mean to sound hysterical or anything but that close call at the last coffee shop kind of rattled me."

"Well, it all worked out didn't it? There's certainly been a lot of coverage of this last one. You did well baby. It was just perfect."

"You think so?"

"Oh, you bet. Maybe one or two more and then you can post that statement you want. I think people will really be willing to listen then."

"One or two more?"

"Yeah, that's all. You can do it."

"They're still not listening to each other. I mean they still sit there and ignore the people sitting right next to them; fooling with their cell phones or tapping away at their computers. Sometimes they even do it on the bus. I've seen them!"

"They will baby. They'll listen. Just a couple more and they'll listen to whatever you have to say."

She was hoping to avoid the long rants he could launch into. _This is so boring. Why can't he just do what she tells him to do and shut up about it?_

"How can people communicate if they don't listen? Myra and I used to talk to each other all the time. We actually talked to each other and heard each other. People are so busy with all that electronic stuff: cell phones, laptops, notebooks, those little music players . . . "

"I know baby. We'll make them listen. We'll make them all sorry they didn't listen to you sooner." she soothed and then sighed inwardly hoping he was done with his retelling of the issue that launched his career as a serial killer. It could get so boring.

"Kiki, I don't know what I would have done without your help. I couldn't have gotten anyone to realize that all this electronic stuff is killing us! It killed Myra! She trusted those doctors and look what happened! Look what happened . . . "he sobbed "Look what happened."

This time she only rolled her eyes. _The guy is a pathetic little whack-job._ She was just lucky she could put that lunacy to good use.

The man on the other end of the line sobbed on. Every once in a while she murmured something she thought would sound empathetic. She knew how to work it.

"Kiki, you're the only one who understands. You're the only one I can trust."

There was more sobbing as she once again withdrew the brush from the small glass bottle and stroked it across one long nail; applying another coat of the blood red lacquer. With the phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, she almost swore aloud as the awkward posture caused her to drip a bit of the viscous glossy liquid onto the top of her dressing table. It was a small perfectly symmetric drop. She stared entranced as it sat glowing wetly against the snowy landscape of the lace table runner._ Such a beautiful color. So like what was on the floor at those crime scenes._

"God, I miss her so much, Kiki. I miss her every minute of every day."

She was barely listening to him as he babbled on. When he paused, she said, "I know baby. Soon you'll be able to be with her. Soon you can leave this all behind; all this pain. Just a couple more and this time, I even have your target all picked out for you."

….

"You have to pull that little lever there. Don't burn yourself." instructed the little brunette as she gave Steve a last minute lesson on making espresso.

She was dizzy with lack of sleep as she wasn't scheduled to open this morning and hadn't even gone to bed until it was almost time to get up. Plus, she had to come in an hour earlier than the usual start of the morning shift to give the cops espresso making lessons but, hey, she was getting time and a half plus a bonus for this and the tall guy was cute even if he was hopeless at making a latte. Things could be worse. _The murderer could make an appearance,_ she thought then shrugged, _Whatever._

"This is so not a good idea." muttered Kono as she heard Steve mutter a curse when he burned himself.

"You guys in position?" she asked as she took up her post behind the counter, tugging at her green apron to get its straps to settle more comfortably on her spare shoulders.

"Yeah, we're ready. Just make sure Steve doesn't shoot a customer." answered Danny's voice in her earpiece.

"Right now, I think he's more in danger of scalding himself to death." she whispered as she heard both Danny and Chin snicker into their mics.

"Dammit!" she heard the muttered oath as Steve struggled to conquer the espresso machine.

"No, you have to release this lever last or the steam will shoot out at you." she heard the little barista say, now with a slight edge to her voice. This has got to be getting on Steve's nerves. She hopes he doesn't have to actually wait on too many caffeine adicts today or the Macchiato Murders won't be the only thing losing the chain its customers.

For someone who could field strip an M14 in the dark this should be easy. She knew Steve even had some sort of engineering degree. This should be a snap for him.

Guess again.

She smiled to herself as there was a hiss of steam and another curse. This one in a language she didn't understand.

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**Things to come in future chapters: a date with Dave, Gracie's show-and-tell, Mickey getting what he deserves, a Doris/Cujo smackdown, the leash thing and lest I forget - catching the killers.**

**Anything you'd like to add? Let me know.**


	15. Critical Mass

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 15

**Here's the next. Thank you all so very, very, much for your reviews on the previous chapter. As I'm sure you can tell; this story is proving incredibly difficult to write. Your comments and suggestions help so very much to keep it going when I become frustrated enough to make husband and ninja cats run for the hills.**

**Any errors are the fault of Imaginary Beta. I take no responsibility for them, it's all her doing.**

**Note: There are references to things and characters from previous Cujo outings but I think it's not really necessary to read them first.**

**Disclaimer: Making money from this is still only a dream as is the one about the tattoos, whipped cream and . . . uhh . . . never mind.**

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Critical Mass

This was boring. His human hasn't come home much and there is no one to talk to. Even the tall female wasn't around to provide him with something to do.

He batted listlessly at the ball that made noise and, plopping onto his side, only his eyes moved as he watched it roll across the cool ground. There were no bugs or mice to chase here and he couldn't go outside to the big sandbox until his human came back. The box of wonderful things that he'd finally figured out how to open was gone. There'd be nothing more to add to his collection of toys unless he came across something his human left. His human didn't have sparkly things and he'd already taken and hidden the thing he wore on his paw.

He'd tried stealing and keeping the little round green squishy things that were sweet when he bit into them but they just sort of got squishier before they dried up and weren't pretty anymore and wouldn't roll across the ground anymore. They were disappointing.

This wasn't like the place his human took him to sometimes. The one with the many tables where there would be places to nap in the little boxes on top of them and where there were other strange boxes that clicked and whirred and spit out papers. There were wonderful places to nap in the sun there and juicy mice and lizards to catch and eat.

Of course, there were no little fish there. Right now he wished there was someone here to chase so that maybe his human would come and give him little fishes. He'd been rewarded with them when he'd trapped the tall female that one time and his human had come to untrap her. Actually, he didn't mind that she escaped because she was too big to eat anyway and he'd gotten little fishes instead. He wondered if he trapped her again would his human come to give him little fishes? It would be fun to chase her again because she ran really fast.

She'd been very angry when he'd stolen the sparkly things from her. First she'd chased him and then he'd chased her. He knew she wasn't really playing but he wasn't worried about being caught. The tall female was not fast enough to catch him and he could fit easily into smaller spaces that she. No one could fit into the small space where he kept the sparkly things. It was hard even for him to get to but it was where the humans would never find his treasures.

Standing and sauntering lazily to where the jingly ball had come to rest against the leg of a chair, he gave it one more half-hearted push and once again plopped onto his side to follow it across the floor with only his eyes; not bothering to chase it. He wished there was someone to play with.

…..

This was boring . . . and annoying. Without knowing who they were looking for, almost every and anyone could be a suspect. Personally, his candidate was the guy who wanted a soy, half-caf, latte with chocolate drizzles and an extra shot on the side. First off, that's just way too many specs for a damned cup of coffee and half-caf _and_ an extra shot? Either you want your caffeine buzz or you don't. _Man-up dammit!_

Kono watched her harried boss try to comply with their one remaining customer's requests. The long line had finally dissipated; some of them actually giving up the wait and leaving the store. Steve wasn't the fastest barista.

She knew he'd tried really hard and she could tell his level of frustration was reaching critical mass. She'd give it another one or two demanding people standing impatiently and rolling their eyes and/or tapping their feet before he shot someone. It was actually kind of funny/scary to watch. A guy who'd mastered every lethal weapon known to man trying to conquer an espresso maker and pretty much failing was perversely entertaining. Steve was cut-out for this job about as much as she was cut-out for being June Cleaver.

There was a hiss and another curse as Steve tried to come up with a latte this time.

"Come on man, I have to get back to work before it's time to go home." growled the guy waiting for his drink. Steve threw down the spoon with a clank and whirled toward the counter, a menacing scowl on his face.

"I got this one boss." chirped Kono as she quickly stepped away from the register and went to rescue Steve or his impatient customer from committing or being victim of mayhem. She was surprised the tall man hadn't already gone for his gun. "Why don't you go wipe down some tables?" she said calmly as the redness of anger crept up Steve's neck toward his face.

"Uhh, yeah, okay." he said tightly and grabbing a clean rag stalked off to tidy up the many tables in the shop.

"Don't they train you guys before turning you loose on the public?" huffed the man who'd been waiting for his latte and the extra shot.

"He's just a little slow." smiled Kono as she pushed the two paper cups toward him.

"Slow! He's a moron!" snarled the annoyed customer.

"Yeah, but he's our eye candy." smirked Kono, "Keeps the ladies coming in for their mochas." She finished her statement with a suggestive wink.

"Whatever." said the now flustered man as he turned and stomped toward the door, giving Steve a final glare before pushing it open.

She heard Danny's snigger in her ear in reaction to her 'eye candy' comment. Steve is so gonna kill her when this is over. _Oh well, you only die once._ "Danny, you'd better get in here now before Steve shoots someone. I think he's ready to start hanging people off the roof until they confess to the murders."

"Anyone in particular?" asked Chin's voice in her ear.

"No, just the annoying ones . . . and right now, they're all pretty much annoying. Steve's pretty frustrated."

"With barista work? You're kidding." came Danny's voice, "Has he just risen to his own level of incompetence?"

"Yeah, who knew SuperSEAL would be stymied by a coffee machine?" laughed the Hawaiian detective

"Coffee making and customer service are apparently not included in his many skills." added Danny, "Actually; I already had suspicions about the customer service thing."

Kono almost winced in sympathy for her harried boss as she heard both Chin and Danny laughing into their mics.

"I heard that!" came Steve's voice

"Sorry babe, you're being fired for incompetence." came Danny's gleeful response

"About damn time!" said Steve into his own mic as he too vigorously scrubbed a table top on the other side of the store before defensively adding "Who in the hell can be so picky about coffee? These people are fuckin' nuts!"

"Babe, in case you're not aware, there's an entire industry based on people being overly particular about their caffeine jolt."

"Yeah, whatever, it's yours and Chin's turn in the barrel now. My shift is over. You'll be singing a different tune after the tenth idiot tells you that there isn't enough foam in their latte."

There was more laughter as both Chin and Danny entered the currently empty store. It was almost three p.m. now and Steve and Kono had completed the morning shift without seeing anyone or observing anything even remotely suspicious.

Steve ceremoniously removed his apron and handed it to Danny with a bow then strode out to the parking lot to sit in the surveillance van while muttering to himself all the way. Chin continued further into the shop and took Kono's place behind the register.

"Bring it on you beast." said Danny as he stood before the espresso machine squatting malevolently; _at least Steve thought so_, behind the counter.

….

He ducked into the shop as tentative splats of rain landed on and around him and the strangely appealing smell of the first drops of water on the warm concrete drifted up. He'd always liked that smell and it was one of Myra's favorites. The smell of cotton drying on an outdoor clothesline was one of his favorites too. It reminded him of his childhood but . . . that was another thing that went the way of so called progress and convenience. People didn't dry their newly washed sheets on outdoor lines anymore. Everybody had clothes dryers now. He sighed at the loss; just another thing to mourn.

He smiled as he walked toward the counter to order his drink. He was about fourth back in line of those waiting to place their orders. At this time of the early evening, business was just picking up as people got off work for the day.

There were no girls here. That was good. He really didn't like killing the girls. Some of them were so pretty it seemed a waste. There was a slender Hawaiian guy and a shorter, stockier blonde who was manning the espresso maker. Neither one fit the description Kiki had given him.

….

It was past ten p.m. and they were calling it a night. This wasn't, thank God, a twenty-four hour location. The four Five-0's had helped one another close-up for the day and the HPD team that had been covering their other potential target had come up with nothing and closed for the evening as well.

The trees wetly swayed in the wind that had picked up within the last half hour and the intermittent showers that had occurred since mid-day had become steadier and heavier. As always, the weather here changed by the minute and there were now hurricane warnings issued for the general area. If the forecasters were correct and, if Mother Nature was feeling benevolent, the worst of it would miss them.

As it stood right now, computer-generated imaging showed they would only catch the edge of the whirling mass but one slight jog to the south and it would pass directly over Oahu.

Now, storms certainly weren't anything new to the Jerseyan but snow storms were still preferable to island weather in his book.

"So" he asked as they hunched their shoulders, ducked their heads and blinked against the driving rain as they made for the van that was parked a little way from the entrance, "Anything we should be doing?"

"Doing?" asked McGarrett not quite understanding the question.

"You know, if this storm, hurricane, typhoon thing goes right over us?"

"Yeah, hold onto your ass."

Danny only rolled his eyes at his partner's answer but didn't have time to formulate a response of his own before Steve's cell rang.

"McGarrett" he answered. As usual, it sounded more like a challenge than a greeting to the detective.

After listening for a moment with the phone tucked against his ear as he fished the van's keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door the SEAL responded, "Yeah, okay, thanks a lot Max."

"What does our little Romeo have to say?" inquired Danny as he wiped water from his face with the back of an equally soggy arm before settling into the passenger seat and drawing the seatbelt across his body, "He's working pretty late tonight."

Shaking the rain from his hair like a big wet dog, which showered it around the interior of the cab and made Danny give him a mild reproving glare, he replied "I guess we aren't the only ones with Denning breathing down our necks. Anyway, he said the wounds were neat and precise as though the killer wanted to make sure they'd produce maximum blood loss. He made sure to sever the carotid every time with every vic."

"I thought the first ones were shot?" reminded Danny

"They were but then the murderer went back to some of them and did his cutting as though to make sure the job was extra messy."

"So, again, the killer wanted to horrify people as much as possible when the bodies were discovered." summed up Detective Williams.

"Looks that way." responded Steve, "The killer for sure wanted this on the news."

"Well, he's accomplished that goal and Kiki Kenworthy has made an entire career of covering it." said Danny, his face scrunched in disapproval.

"Didn't she make you an offer you almost couldn't refuse?" smirked his partner

"I have to admit it was tempting, she's pretty nice to look at, but rumor has it I wouldn't be the only cop on her 'to do' list."

"I was going to warn you about swimming in dirty water but I figured you're a big boy." smirked Steve

"Thank you for that, Aunt Martha, but I am a big boy. Besides, I'd already been warned by that cute little redhead Talia. She implied that Kiki's a little on the predatory side."

"Predatory? She did everything but knock you down and have her way with you." laughed Steve

"Pretty much." confirmed Danny with a lascivious smile, "But aren't we being a little restrained in describing the near miss? 'Have her way'? Normally you would have put it in another . . . uhh . . . less refined way. You going soft in your old age Commander?"

"Cath's been on my case to watch my mouth. Said someday I'm going to let fly with something that won't be proper for Gracie to hear and that you're going to kick my ass."

"Fuckin' A"

"So go on about Kiki?"

"Anyway, Talia told me that the islands are I quote, 'littered with the bodies of those who'd taken Kiki up on her offer'. I did consider it mind you but after I checked a little further I'm pretty sure that our mutual little friend, one Detective Michael Kilkenny, has taken a walk on the wild side with her already."

"Damn! I wondered how she got to the crime scenes ahead of everyone else. She must be getting tipped off by that bastard."

"Well, the woman's using the tools nature gave her."

"Yeah, nature and Dupont according to Cath." Steve just shook his head whether at what Kiki had done or that he hadn't caught on to it; Danny couldn't tell.

"You going to pursue that redhead?" asked the SEAL as he turned the ignition key and the engine cranked over a couple times before finally catching.

"Nah, but she gave me her number."

"That's not pursuing?"

"The number is for Angie to call her when she gets to town next week."

"I won't even ask how you managed to set-up your sister before she even gets here." laughed Steve as he released the parking brake on the van now that the engine had warmed sufficiently and smoothed out. _The power company really needs to replace some of their fleet,_ was his brief thought.

"She seems like a nice girl and after the thing with Mary didn't work out, I thought it would be nice to have a distraction when she gets here."

"Yeah, I'm sorry it worked out that way for her. She didn't need another mess on top of that one with her ex." Steve ran a hand through his still sodden hair as he steered one-handed out the entrance to the parking lot. "I don't think that Mary even knows what she wants. I hear she's gone back to that musician from that country western band."

"You mean the guy she had arrested for smacking her around?" said Danny in astonishment

"Yeah, that guy. I tried to reason with her but she wouldn't listen. Mary is all kinds of screwed-up. I guess I have to get her back here to keep an eye on her but first she has to dump that asshole."

"It'll happen. It's a cycle with some people. You just have to wait for it to come around again." reassured Danny.

"I know but she's her own worst enemy."

"Runs in the family."

Steve just gave his partner 'the look' as they wheeled through dark, rain-swept, streets to H.Q. to drop off the van for the night. They'd be back again tomorrow.

…..

He watched them pull away in the power company labeled van. It wasn't the right time to make his move but Kiki had given him his target. Like the others, it had to be done right. He couldn't rush these things.

The big blue vehicle disappeared into the distance as he picked up the little leather tool kit and exited the car.

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**Reviews would be nice. Not that I crave them or anything.**


	16. Warnings

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 16

**Here's the next. It's a little shorter but another follows within two days. Thank you all for your reviews, alerts and favorites. I never take your goodwill for granted and your comments continue to influence the direction of the story. Feel free to point out what you don't like. Until I publish my best-seller, I learn by doing.**

**Editing oversights are those of Imaginary Beta. She's never been very good at it – and she doesn't know how to cook.**

**Disclaimer: Ditching those plans to build husband and ninja cats that lovely spacious cage with the view of the ocean. They'll have to be content with their *currently* cagelesss view of someone tapping frantically away at a keyboard. They're just lucky I don't make money from this.**

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Warnings

He threw his keys on the table near the door as the little cat greeted him by winding around his legs and meowing nonstop.

"Hey buddy. Long day huh?" he smiled downward as he bent to pick him up. With a welcome scratch behind his ears the little animal emitted a purr loud enough to be heard on Molokai. Tucking Cujo under his right arm Steve glanced automatically at his left wrist to check the time; frowning as he saw only bare skin. He'd have to see about getting another watch. With the activity of trying to find the killer currently running amok he'd not even had 'time' to replace the mysteriously missing item.

"Okay cat, I know no matter what time it is, it's time for you to eat. Let's go see what's in the cupboard." Cujo only purred louder as he was transported toward the kitchen, visions of little fishes dancing . . . err swimming, in his head but unknowingly the little feline's fond hope was soon to be dashed.

Steve set him back down on the floor and picked up the food dish to wash it out. Opening the cupboard that held neatly stacked cans of food alphabetized by flavor, he picked the one that was assigned for Friday. Of course, he'd gotten all kinds of flak from his amused partner when Danny had found out there was an assigned daily flavor but Steve figured it was a good way to keep Cujo from becoming bored with what essentially were kitty MREs.

Still, he strongly suspected it didn't really matter which of the at least twenty varieties of the disgusting mush he threw into the dish. After all, cats ate mice and lizards and bugs for chrissakes! It was probably just the pet food industry's rather successful marketing con to have owners thinking their cats and dogs needed variety. On the other hand, even Danny would get tired of malasadas if that was the only thing he had to eat . . . wouldn't he?

Picking the tin labeled 'mariner's choice', (which was probably another name for 'stuff that landed on the floor and we scooped it up and threw it in a can'), he was grateful that someone had the brilliant idea to make the containers with the same kind of pop tops as beer and soda cans. _Ingenious!_ It certainly helped to make the process faster without having to search for a can opener. It made it less likely for one to be assaulted by the wolverine who'd sometimes become so impatient to be fed he'd try to take a chunk out of whoever wasn't moving fast enough to fill his dish.

"Hold on, I'm moving fast as I can." said Steve with a wrinkled frown as he plopped the disgusting mush into the dish and the feline meowed anxiously below and pawed at his ankle before beginning to lean forward to nip it.

"Hey! I told you no biting! It's not going to make me move any faster and it may even get you launched across the room if you don't knock it off!"

Cujo knew his human didn't like it when he bit him but he wanted food now! He also knew the tall man's threatening growl was an empty one. His human wouldn't hurt him.

He'd trained the tall man as well as the young female who smelled like the big salty water beyond the sand and the male who wore cloth that looked like flowers. They would pretty much feed him whenever he told them to but the loud man and the tall female still put up a fight though sometimes the loud man would give him treats even without being threatened but the tall female still won't do what he tells her – and she made him smell awful. She had to go.

Steve plunked the dish down onto the floor and picked up the water bowl to empty and rinse it before refilling. As he went to set it down next to the food dish he saw Cujo sniff disdainfully at his dinner and then make a pawing motion as if to bury it before sitting and looking up at him expectantly.

"What the hell? You've eaten that before and liked it fine. I just bought a whole friggin' case of it on sale!"

The cat only continued to stare up at him with an expectant look on his face, (if cats can look expectant).

Suspecting what the furry little piranha wanted instead of the stuff in his dish, McGarrett growled, "Oh no. You don't get kippers this time. That was just a one-time offer and I'm onto your game. You eat that or nothing. Danny's right, you are pretty picky for an alley cat. We've all spoiled you rotten."

Five-0's leader had cautioned the team not to give-in to Cujo's begging at the office. The little cat had acquired quite the sophisticated palate. He'd caught Chin giving him garlic shrimp once and Cujo refused to eat mere cat food for the next three days before giving in, his eyes nearly glassy from hunger, and going back to his regular diet. He couldn't be too annoyed with the Hawaiian detective. Their office guard/rodent control device knew he would get snacks if he put on his deceptive 'I'm just a poor, hungry, little kitten' act. Of course, if that failed, he would morph into a Tasmanian devil and his 'If you don't feed me and quickly, I'll rip your leg off' mode. What Steve wasn't aware of was that Danny had taken to bribing him with dried shrimp to keep from being attacked at random when the 'fanged fence rabbit' was in a pissy mood.

The cat now looked pleadingly up at him. Not yet ready to launch an offensive to get what he wanted.

"No I said. I'm not gonna cater to you tonight. I'm too tired. You know you're not going to get everything you ask for right?"

The cat declined to answer the question as he continued to wait expectantly for something better . . . like little fishes.

_Now I'm expecting Cujo to understand and answer me! _thought the tall man in disgust,_ Time to hit the sack for sure._ "Eat it or don't. I'm going to bed." he announced and began to make his way toward the stairs.

Behind him there was a low growl.

"Threats aren't going to get you anywhere either. Don't even think about it!" said Steve way too tired and out of patience, his fingers still tender from the earlier battle with the espresso machine.

….

He'd already taken care of the cameras for tomorrow morning. Though Kiki wouldn't approve, he'd like to get this all taken care of tonight. She'd told him who the target was and given him the address. Maybe she'd be pleased he'd taken care of it so quickly.

He put the Prius into gear and silently glided away into the night. Pi'ikoi Street was only about twenty minutes away.

…..

"Dammit!" As the detective stood on his own postage stamp sized front porch; his search through his pockets for his house keys came up bare. It was late and dark and damp as a fine drizzle, the portent of the leading edge of the storm, turned the low-voltage lamps lining the walk from the complex's parking area to his apartment door into only softly glowing spots of light.

Pulling up his shirt collar and hunching his shoulders against the coolness on the back of his neck, he trotted back to the Camaro to search for the missing keys. He looked under the seats in case they'd somehow landed there but found nothing. _At least I didn't run across one of SuperSEAL's stashes of grenades,_ he thought sourly, standing up to futilely pat his pockets for the missing keys one last time.

It was all Steve's fault anyway. If he hadn't insisted on driving all the time, Danny would have kept his house keys on the same ring with the keys to the Camaro. But after that one time Steve had taken off in the car with all the keys on one ring and though Danny had already arranged for a ride home from Kono he had to wait until Steve returned so he could get into his own damned apartment. Now, he knew most people would ask, 'Why don't you have two sets of car keys and just give one set to Steve?' . . . the answer to that question would be a resounding 'NO WAY!' If Steve had his own set of keys to Danny's car then he'd never see it again. It was bad enough Steve drove it like his own but at least he had to ask for the keys first, (or just stand and look at him expectantly like Cujo waiting for dried shrimp) before getting them.

In any case, right now he had no idea where they could be. As he recalled, the last time they were needed was yesterday when Gracie had used hers to let them in when they'd returned from dinner out. They weren't needed to lock the door behind him because it had the kind of latch that just needed a turn of a lever before pulling it shut.

Thankfully, Rachel had stopped by to pick up Grace last night because it would have been way too early to get her out of bed to drop her off before their early shift at the coffee shop. His on-again, off-again, relationship with his ex never interfered with what was best for their daughter. Anyway, he assumed the missing keys would turn up in the car or at work.

Realizing he'd have to break into his own apartment, (probably not a wise choice as Missus Ratliff, his elderly but fierce neighbor, had already peeked through her curtains to see who'd pulled into the parking lot at this late hour), or go sleep somewhere else he thought over his options. Whether it's his own place or not, the old bat would most certainly call HPD if she saw him trying to jimmy a window.

They already had several run-ins; the first being only a couple days after he'd moved-in when he and Steve had been observed in the parking area in an early-morning wrestling match over the keys when Danny had decided that he wasn't going to allow his insane partner to drive that day. She'd called the cops that time and several times since for offenses ranging from playing his television too loudly at night to letting Gracie play hopscotch on the walk. They had a turbulent history to say the least.

The old gal was well known at the station and it seemed to amuse them no end whenever they got a call about 'that little blonde man' whose name she very well knew. He just had the misfortune to be the current recipient of her overzealous scrutiny.

Frustrated at how his life seemed currently controlled by one over-amped adrenaline junkie, an ex-wife and an overly zealous apartment complex watch witch, he cursed upwardly at the rain laden night sky. _How has my life become such a disaster? What could I have possibly done in a past life to deserve this?_ His only choice at this hour was to just go back to McGarrett's and crash on the sofa. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Cursing not so silently he got back into the car and as the Camaro's engine purred reassuringly to life, (at least something was going right), he sighed in tired resignation as he steered his way to Pi'ikoi Street.

….

With a bright bluish flash and a clap of thunder, the lights went out.

"Shit." exclaimed McGarrett as he stopped in mid trudge up to the second floor. It was pitch black in the house. There wasn't even the glow of a street lamp coming through the windows. _Lightening must have taken out a transformer somewhere_, thought the SEAL.

He bent down to pick up the little cat who'd squawked in alarm with the loud sound and the bright flash. Feeling the tense little body in his arms, he crooned soothingly, "It's okay buddy, just Mother Nature making sure we don't get too lazy. Let's just go hunker down until morning. I know even if you get to snooze all day at least I could use some sleep."

He continued his walk up the stairs, the tense little cat beginning to squirm in his arms.

"Going to be a mess out there in the morning. Let's just chill for now okay? Your favorite chew toy is gonna be here early in the morning bright-eyed and bushy tailed . . . well early at least." he amended. He assumed the warning growl he got in reply was only a complaint about the storm and general unhappiness at having only cat food for dinner.

He shouldn't have made that assumption.

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**Haven't been very happy with this story and am feeling guilty for the even slower than usual updates. Will be taking a break from posting when this is done but will continue to read and review.**

**Even though they may not be deserved, reviews would be much appreciated.**


	17. Backup

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 17

**Here's the next. My apologies that it's a day late and many dollars short. RL is still trying to intrude upon my fantasies. Thank you all so very much for the comments on the last chapter. If you see your ideas folded into the tale, please feel free to remind me so that I can give credit to those who were kind enough to offer them.**

**Imaginary Beta gave it only a very quick once-over. She actually had a job to do today so I'll let her slide if she missed something. I hope you will as well.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Still no money. Fame and fortune still elusive.**

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Backup

He knew the alarm had to have battery back-up. Even with the entire neighborhood in darkness, he wouldn't be lucky enough to just waltz in without having to deal with disabling the security system. He'd managed to do it at the coffee places. Kiki had provided the diagrams that allowed him to disable the chain's standard security systems. He smiled to himself at the irony. He'd actually had to learn a bit about electronics after all.

He shone the penlight on the piece of paper he'd propped up on the steering wheel. This one was different but she'd given him clear instructions on how to deactivate it. He'd studied it carefully. It was a bit more complicated but not impossible.

….

The little cat remained on guard duty even as his human began to snore softly beside him. He could feel that something wasn't right.

Uncurling from where he lay, he delicately tread across the bedding to stand on the pillow next to his human's face and began to lick the bristly cheek.

"Stoppit! Not now. Go to sleep dammit." was the mumble as one large hand pushed him gently away. He didn't understand the words but he understood that his human wanted him to leave.

Hmmph.

Once more then. He chirped and meowed and nudged as he tried to make his human understand.

Once more he was pushed away with a sleepy mumble.

_I'll have to do this on my own_, thought the cat as he jumped off the bed, _Maybe I will get_ _little fishes afterwards._

…..

Kiki said this would be the ultimate statement - killing the one named McGarrett, leader of the Governor's Special Task Force. She said there would have to be two more after that last one but he felt this would be all that's needed to finally convince everyone and he could put his statement out to the media. She'd have to make the decision though. Kiki had sole right to the story. After all the help she'd given him, she deserved it.

He'd already taken care of his affairs. Being imprisoned for the rest of his life was the price he'd have to pay for his campaign. Hawaii has no death penalty but even if it did, he didn't care. He had to let everyone know that they were on the wrong path. That technology wasn't the way to go. People were losing the ability to truly communicate with each other when they sat with their faces against a computer screen or stuffed their ears with devices that prevented them from hearing their fellow human beings. It was a tragedy.

The coffee places had been the ultimate example of people refusing to communicate. All those people in their electronic cocoons that prevented them from actually talking with one another. Their devices keeping them from experiencing the joy of holding and reading an actual book made of paper and ink.

That's what had killed Myra. If the store hadn't gone down the drain when people stopped buying books and just sat around and drank coffee and played with their computers . . .

At first, the killings had only been a sort of revenge. To make them pay for the death of his beloved bookstore and his beloved wife. He knew she'd have lived longer if the surgery hadn't been botched. He could have taken her to that clinic in Switzerland that he'd heard of but, without the money to do so, he had to rely on the doctors who told him the computer aided technique they planned on using was safe and effective. He didn't believe them. The computer made some kind of mistake . . . he was sure it did. It allowed his wife of twenty years to die. Technology was at fault; first by making people ignorant of the world of paper and ink and then by failing her on the operating table.

Maybe they'd listen now.

One last snip of a wire and it was safe to enter the kitchen. He carefully pried the bottom of the old fashioned double-hung window and it slipped almost soundlessly upward. Luckily there was nothing set on the sill. Myra used to keep all kinds of things on the window sills at home . . . plants and little figurines . . . he almost sighed aloud at the fond memories but catching himself, he focused back on his task. He hoped the sound of the storm would mask any slight noise he might make as he carefully climbed into the opening.

….

Something was wrong. He woke from a dead sleep knowing he wasn't alone in the darkness. It felt different than when just he and the cat were in the house. For one thing, the rain sounded louder than it should if all the windows were closed. The air was colder.

Sitting up to silently open the drawer in the bed stand, he took out his SIG and stood to go to the partly closed bedroom door. Listening there for a moment he heard nothing unusual. Creeping out to the hallway, he could hear the faintest of noises; like fabric brushing against skin when one walked.

Silently making his way down the stairs, he paused on the landing to listen. Whatever small sound had been made wasn't repeated.

Suddenly, with the familiar terrifying yowl, he heard Cujo scrambling after someone in the dark. There was the sound of running footsteps and then a feline screech and a thump against the dining room wall. He rushed toward its doorway. Just as he got there Cujo landed at his feet and skittered away into the living room. As he made the mistake of looking downward, he saw the faint flash of a blade and felt a burning across the back of his gun hand. The attacker got in what was likely a lucky swipe before Steve jumped back from it but lost his grip on the SIG when the masked man immediately followed up with a vicious kick to the same arm.

However frantic and unskilled the attack; the fury of it was surprising.

Rushing forward to grapple with his attacker, Steve wrenched the knife from his opponent's grip but in the darkness, with neither man having a firm grasp, it clattered to the floor. The intruder, who looked to be clad in black from head to toe, managed to twist away and back further into the dining room.

Steve followed and tackled him, both of them thudding onto the carpeted floor then rolling about knocking chairs and table aside in their struggle. Despite his extensive training in hand to hand combat, the guy was slippery as a weasel. It was like trying to wrestle Cujo into a cat carrier.

The intruder somehow regained his feet before Steve and picking up a chair, swung it ceilingward intending to bring it down on the head of his foe.

Still on the floor, Steve saw the opening and kicked out, catching the shadowy figure in the knee. He heard a gasp but the attacker didn't go down; he just grabbed at the corner of the huge china cabinet set diagonally against the walls of the dining room and with a loud grunt pulled at it with both hands. As if in slow motion, the massive piece of furniture toppled almost majestically forward; its glass-fronted doors swinging open and Doris McGarrett's Noritake service-for-twelve pouring out to dash to pieces below their feet.

Steve managed to scoot only far enough out of its way to keep most of himself from beneath it when it landed. As it slammed down onto his lower body, he felt something slide along the inside of his right thigh but there was no pain, just the heaviness of the cabinet.

The invader managed to back out of the way as the monolithic piece of furniture fell forward and with the next flash of lightning, he spied the discarded knife lying only inches away. He now realized he had the advantage. Picking it up he charged. With both hands he raised the blade above his head as McGarrett struggled to free himself from the thing that held him to the floor.

Suddenly, an unearthly screech split the air followed by the furry blur that landed on the back of the masked man's neck like a lion on an antelope; fangs seeking the spot that would allow the puncture of a spine, (if the fangs just weren't so short) as Cujo locked his jaws and hung on for all he was worth. With a scream of his own the intruder suddenly found himself engaged by a whole new enemy. He flailed wildly at the demented ball of teeth and claws clinging to the back of his neck.

The two combatants crashed about the dining room knocking over the few chairs still standing as framed pictures were knocked of the wall to crash to the floor to join the mess already there.

As the battle raged on and the crunching sound of broken glass and china joined screams, snarls and growls, Steve strained to free himself from under the heavy cabinet. The frighteningly effective feline was, so far, successful in keeping the enemy away from his original target but now he had to do his part and protect the little buzz-saw.

He felt his strength strangely deserting him as he struggled to free himself to go help his furry back-up.

…..

The McGarrett house was dark when he pulled into the driveway to park behind Steve's behemoth of a Silverado. If the idiot was already asleep, (as he should be considering his battered condition and the fact he looked about to fall over from exhaustion when they'd left H.Q.), he'd just have to get his ass up to answer the door. _Serves him right for making me separate my keys,_ thought the tired detective.

Scurrying from the car to the wide front porch he rang the bell and waited. The intermittent squalls meant that what had started as a fine drizzle was now, once again, a proper downpour and the water rushed in a torrent off the edge of the porch overhang. He scowled out at the 'Hawaiian' weather as he waited only briefly before punching the doorbell button again.

"Come on! Get your lazy ass out of bed!" he muttered half aloud as with both hands he tried to brush the water from his ruined coif. Even though he knew no one but his sartorially challenged partner would see it, it was still another of the indignities of this night.

After four minutes that seemed more like forty he was officially worried. He expected his friend to show up at the door - maybe sleep tousled and cranky - but nonetheless he still expected him to answer the bell. He knew Cath wasn't in town to distract him and SuperSEAL was a light sleeper no matter how tired he was. It shouldn't be taking so long to get to the friggin' door.

Now pounding loudly on the heavy wood and shouting his friend's name, there was still no answer. _This is unusual . . . and not in a good way._ He unclipped the HK still on his hip and thumbed off the safety then blinking the rain out of his eyes quietly advanced along the side of the house toward the rear of the property.

_Surely, Steve couldn't be outside at this hour? Even weird as he is, he still has enough sense to come in out of the rain._

Passing the uncurtained dining room window, he looked in. There was very little light but he could make out something large lying on the floor. It looked like a piece of furniture. Just then, a bolt of lightning lit up the scene like a strobe. In the quick flash of blue-white light he saw the debris on the floor and Steve lying in the middle of it.

"Shit! Shit!" he exclaimed then turned to sprint the rest of the way on the rain slicked cobblestones that made up the walkway alongside the house, nearly taking a header into the mud at the corner. When he reached the door, it was locked. Taking a step back, he gave it one hard kick and the French doors splintered inward, wood and glass shattering as the lock gave way.

He'd expected to hear the alarm go off but there was only silence and the rumbling of the storm over the ocean as he rushed through the kitchen and into the darkened dining room.

As he entered the room another flash revealed Steve lying partly under the massive china cabinet the detective knew usually stood in the corner. McGarrett was halfway propped against the wall, legs caught beneath the furniture's heavy bulk.

Rushing forward and keeping hold of his gun, his free hand reached to feel for a pulse on his partner's throat. The carpet beneath them felt disturbingly wet as he'd kneeled on it. Touching cool and clammy skin, at first he couldn't feel the reassuring throb and his own heart nearly stopped. After adjusting his touch, he felt a fast but irregular beating beneath his fingertips.

In the darkness, he barely made out the destruction that surrounded them. Though worried about his unconscious friend, he had to make sure the house was clear before he could tend to Steve. As quickly as he could, he cleared every room on both floors. Other than the open kitchen window that had most likely provided entrance for an intruder and a window broken-out on the other side of the living room that probably provided exit he found nothing.

Going to the wall switch in the dining room, he clicked it on but no light was forthcoming. He re-holstered his gun and pulled his cell out of his pocket. Tapping the screen to access the 'light' function he quickly shone it on the downed man who'd not yet made a sound. McGarrett's eyes were closed and his skin was almost glowingly white in the darkness and there was a too rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"Steve! Steven! Wake up!" he implored as he gently patted his partner's face and then became more energetic about it when there was no response. Steve stubbornly remained unconscious.

Danny nauseatingly realized the carpet below Steve was soaked in blood. Using the cell's light, he passed it over his partner's body to search for the source. There was a relatively minor gash on the back of his right hand and forearm but it wasn't bleeding that much. Danny hoped it wasn't because there was nearly no blood left.

Quickly dialing 911, he requested an ambulance and a squad. He knew at least one would usually roll along with it, particularly when they realized who lived at the address he gave but this was a crime scene involving a cop. This would soon be a very busy place. One more call and an obviously sleepy Chin answered.

"Chin, get to Steve's place. A bus is on the way!" that was all the information he took time to give as he stood, glass crunching beneath his feet.

The blood had to be coming from the part of Steve that was still pinned beneath the monstrosity of a cabinet. He first ran to the kitchen to gather clean towels. When he lifted off the cabinet he'd most likely find a seriously bleeding wound; he'd need the linens to help staunch the flow.

Returning in a quick moment, he set down the dishtowels on Steve's chest and bent to grip the edge of the cabinet. It felt really heavy. With a loud grunt he lifted it upward, hoping he had enough strength to pivot the gigantic piece of furniture away from his injured friend. Steve cried out in pained sounding surprise as the weight was lifted off.

With a couple more grunts, and a straining of muscles, Danny pushed and shoved the overturned cabinet until he could set it down somewhere other than on top of his partner.

With a crack of thunder that seemed directly overhead, another flash lit up the room and he saw the right side of Steve's sleep pants soaked in blood as well as the floor beneath him.

"Oh God!" he muttered as he once more knelt on the sopping carpet and pulled his cell phone out. He shone the light on what appeared to be a large gash on one thigh halfway between knee and hip. Setting the phone down beside him, he leaned forward and used both hands to rip the fabric for a better look at the injury. The cell escaped his now slippery grasp when he tried to pick it up again and skittered away into the darkness as he cursed loudly.

There was an answering groan.

"Hang in there babe! Help's coming!" he said as he stood to look for where the phone had landed. He found it a couple feet away and knelt back down in the broken dishware and blood. He set it on the edge of the cabinet; angling its light to shine where he needed it and, using both hands, quickly pressed a towel onto the heavily bleeding wound; clamping down tightly with both hands as Steve groaned again and began to wake.

"What the hell did you do this time, huh? What happened?" he implored the groaning man.

"Dann . . .ny?"

"Who else you moron." bit out the detective, his worry making him sound angry as the blood very quickly soaked through the towel.

"Cujo?" Steve croaked out weakly blinking as he tried to focus on his surroundings.

Not knowing if Steve was looking for the cat or if it was part of an explanation as to what happened Danny asked, "What about Cujo? I don't think even the buzz-saw could cause this much damage." he said as he pressed down even more firmly to staunch the pulsing flow. There obviously had to be damage to an artery to cause such bleeding.

"Where's . . . " the injured man's eyes began to drift closed.

"Hey! No, no! No falling asleep!" Danny yelled, briefly taking one hand off the towel to briskly pat the side of Steve's face, leaving a bloody handprint on the pale skin.

"Uhh . . . stoppit . . . stop hittin' me . . . " Steve mumbled weakly and tried to move away from the hand that seemed to be slapping him more than just lightly.

"I'll stop it if you stay awake. No sleeping!" responded the blonde as he saw eyes blink dazedly back at him.

"Cujo's . . . " was the soft mumble . . . Cujo's . . . "

"Cujo's what? Hey! I said stay awake!"

"Okay, 'm wake, 'm wake . . . " said Steve none too convincingly, his battle to remain conscious seeming to be a losing one.

"Dammit! Where's the EMT's?" Danny muttered, becoming more worried about his partner if even possible.

"What about Cujo Steven? What about the wolverine?"

" . . . went after the guy who . . . "

"What guy?" demanded Danny, hoping his tone of voice would keep Steve focused.

"Uh . . . a guy . . . "

"Who was it babe? Tell me who attacked you. Can you describe him?"

"Dunno . . . he was umm masked . . . and Cujo . . . chased . . . " Steve's lids began to close once more

"Hey! Dammit! I told you no sleeping! Did Cujo go after the bad guy?"

"Uhh . . . what?"

"Did Cujo chase the bad guy?" Danny repeated even more loudly, clamping down even tighter on the still bleeding wound - this time with no response to the pain it caused.

Steve had slipped back into unconsciousness.

…

It was dark and wet but it didn't matter.

_This strange man had tried to hurt his human. NO ONE hurts what is his!_

He tracked the diluted scent across the wet ground as the rain soaked his fur, making it flatten against his small body. It didn't matter. Water didn't bother him. Even when it fell from the sky and didn't smell like flowers.

The little cat was on a mission.

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**Not even attempting to establish an ETA for the next chapter. Already screwed up with this one.**

**Reviews would be very much appreciated. They certainly helped spur me on when I felt like giving up on this one.**


	18. Hood Ornament

Cujo III - Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 18

**Here's the next. Not all that much humor but things are moving along. Can't tell you how much I appreciated your comments on the last chapter. I think I answered them all but if I didn't I apologize. ADD does make things a bit hard to keep track of when there's . . . Oh, sorry . . . where was I? Anyway, rainbows and fuzzy kittens to all of you who took the time. It certainly helps to keep this story on track.**

**NOTE: Medical stuff is based on annoying questions asked of a relative who is a former EMT. Promised not to hold her responsible if anyone dies of a typo.**

**Disclaimer: If I made money from this, I'd just blow it on babysitters for husband and ninja cats . . . oh, and that one-way ticket to Hawaii.**

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Hood Ornament

Once again Danny paced back and forth across the linoleum. Once again he waited for someone - anyone - to come out to tell him what his partner's condition is. This had gotten to be a far, far, too familiar process.

Momentarily stopping his pacing to face Chin who sat ever tranquilly in one of the blue plastic chairs that provided only meagerly comfortable seating; his hands began their dance. "You know what! I'm going to have the Neanderthal bubble-wrapped. Yeah, a helmet and full body armor under bubble wrap! That's exactly what the big jerk needs if he can't manage to keep out of trouble for even one friggin' evening."

The Hawaiian, though also extremely worried for his boss, smiled while thinking. _Danny may have a point._

Last night, immediately after getting the call from Danny, Chin had contacted Kono and his cousin had pulled up to the McGarrett house right behind him. By the time they'd made their way to the trashed dining room, Steve had already been hooked up to IV's and oxygen in readiness to being loaded into the ambulance.

The cousins had been shocked, not only at the appearance of their boss, but at the destruction of the room. There was broken glass and china everywhere. It sat in a jagged layer over the darkly stained carpet amidst the splintered chairs and picture frames.

Steve had a large bloodstained compression bandage around his right thigh. He'd looked nearly dead; his skin pale and bluish. Though unconscious, he was in obvious distress; chest rising and falling far too quickly as he gasped for oxygen beneath the plastic mask one of the EMT's checked for a tight fit; adjusting the flow from the tank beside them.

Chin knew from the amount of blood that soaked the carpet beneath their feet and from the looks on the faces of the medics as they tended their patient, Steve was in big trouble.

Knowing Danny would want to ride to the hospital with his friend, the cousins stayed behind to give HPD direction and secure the scene as quickly as they could before leaving for the hospital as well.

Danny's concentration didn't waver during the entire journey. He silently watched them work on his partner who hadn't given any indication of waking; his hand ice-cold in Danny's warm grip

About halfway to Queens Steve began gasping in distress despite the oxygen mask clamped onto his face. The EMT yelled to the driver and the bus quickly pulled over to the side of the road; driver now jumping into the back of it as well.

"What's happening with him?" asked the detective, fear taking a tighter grip on his own chest as the beeping portable monitor registered a much too fast and erratic pattern.

"His body is telling him that because he's lost so much blood there isn't enough to carry oxygen where it's needed. It's making his heart and lungs work too hard. It's called hypovolemic shock. This will help him out." answered Tiko Hamane one of the two disturbingly familiar EMTs who knew the team by their names as the other medic pushed a syringe of milky fluid into the IV port. Danny watched in dread as they tilted Steve's head back and efficiently inserted an airway.

"Don't worry Danny, we're handling it, said the younger and female half of the medical duo, Terri Arden, as she expertly flicked the bubbles out of yet another syringe before inserting it into the port.

In mere minutes, they were once again on their way, siren cutting into the sodden air and flashing lights dancing off rain slicked surfaces. The ambulance even fishtailed briefly as Terri took a corner a little too quickly.

Steve was still desperately trying to pull enough oxygen into his lungs but remained unconscious as the emergency vehicle backed up to the ER entrance and the gurney was quickly offloaded and wheeled through the sliding glass doors. The last Danny saw of his partner was when he was wheeled into a trauma room and a beefy nurse blocked him from following behind.

Now that they were here in this fluorescently lit room with the speckled linoleum and incredibly uncomfortable plastic chairs, the events leading up to it felt almost surreal.

Kono had just returned with a cardboard carrier holding three cups of coffee and a paper sack of breakfast sandwiches.

Danny smiled his thanks to her as he took the Styrofoam cup, this one without the ubiquitous mermaid, thank God, and took a sip. It was very much needed since no one had gotten any sleep to speak of and he himself had none since discovering Steve lying beneath an upturned china cabinet and bleeding to death on his own dining room floor.

"No word yet I take it?" asked Kono as she set down the carrier and reached into the bag and pulled out a ham and egg on rye which she handed to the blonde detective. Rye bread disgusted her but she knew Danny liked it. She handed Chin the next sandwich then took the last for herself. It felt weird there were only the three sandwiches. When one of the members of their family was missing, it made things . . . asymmetrical.

Though the food was from a cafe near the office they knew to be a good one, she disinterestedly examined her own breakfast.

When ordering lunch from there, Steve's usual favorite was one with the embarrassingly precious name 'Cow-abunga Bunny' which was essentially a humongous cheese and veggie sandwich. She knew he hadn't the guts to order one when he went to the shop himself but had no problem getting her to do it.

One time he'd even told her to have them hold the cheese which of course was fodder for Danny who'd immediately declared, "Now I know you're insane. You just ordered a cheese sandwich without the friggin' cheese!"

"But I like the veggies and sunflower seeds in that one!" defended Steve, not knowing what he'd done wrong this time.

"Then, why didn't you just order a veggie sandwich you idiot?"

"A veggie sandwich is fifty cents more!"

"Okay, I take it back . . . insane and cheap!"

She almost smiled at the memory as her own sandwich remained in its wrapper and she silently put it back in the bag. She noticed neither of the other two had yet unwrapped theirs. Somehow, no one was very hungry.

"Oh, hey," said Danny, suddenly remembering. "Did you guys see Cujo anywhere?"

"No brah. Forgot he was even staying at Steve's." said Chin

"Well, I think before he passed out completely, Steve was trying to tell me that Cujo took off after whoever broke in."

"Wouldn't be surprised." said Chin, eyebrows actually raising in surprise

"We'll have to let Animal Control know to look out for him." said Kono, another expression of worry crossing her smooth face. "As soon as we find out about Steve, one of us should probably go look too."

"Yeah, who knows. Maybe the wolverine caught up with whoever it was and we'll just have to call Max to come collect the body." said Chin only half in jest

"Entirely possible, considering who's on the perp's trail." smiled Danny. "I know I wouldn't want El Gato del Diablo chasing me through darkened streets."

"That's about the only place he hasn't chased you Danny." snorted Kono, glad for the opportunity to speculate on a comparatively lighter subject. Not that stalking and killing was necessarily lighter; it was just better than worrying oneself to death over Steve.

After nearly another hour, a woman in fresh green scrubs entered the surgical waiting room. She knew better than to scare the crap out of family by wearing the blood covered ones she'd just replaced. There wasn't anyone else in it other than the odd mix of the three who looked up at her worried and expectant.

"Family of Steven McGarrett?" she asked though it could be no other

"Yeah, that's us." said Danny as he came to his feet, nearly spilling the now cold coffee still clutched in his hand.

"Just sit." She said with a smile, motioning to Danny to retake his seat on the hard plastic chair.

"I'm Doctor Trilling, Commander McGarrett's attending" she began

"How is he?" asked Danny before she could say another word.

The doctor smiled again at the worried looking blonde who'd obviously been out in the rain; rumpled clothing and plastered hair testifying to the fact. His clothing looked no less grisly than had her own only minutes before.

"He's still with us."

The three of them sighed collectively with relief at the news.

"What are the damages . . . this time?" asked Chin

"First, I must tell you that your commander cut it pretty close. He was almost bloodless when he arrived. He's currently still being transfused and we're almost out of his blood type. It's a good thing we have the ability to obtain more from neighboring hospitals."

"You mean he nearly bled to death?"

"Very nearly. His systolic BP on arrival placed him firmly in stage four hypovolemic shock which to put it simply is very very bad and when one's organs aren't supplied with enough blood to carry oxygen to them, well . . . lots of nasty things can happen."

"Nasty things like what?" asked Kono, the slim Hawaiian woman intensely focused on the doctor, worry creasing her brow.

"If there's not enough oxygen supplied to the brain, there is the possibility of brain damage."

"Are you saying that Steve could have brain damage?" asked Danny, the dread of such a thing making him nauseous.

"So far there's no evidence of that but we'll have to have him wake to confirm it" answered Dr. Trilling almost cheerfully - far too much so for Danny's liking when the well-being of his partner was in question.

"What about the other things?" asked Kono in alarm

"Other things to think about are kidney damage and stress on other organs but we're monitoring that very carefully. The readings aren't good but I think it's something that, with time, will improve."

"So, we just wait?" asked Chin, trying to clarify for all of them

"Yes, essentially. When he wakes, we can evaluate where he is. The anesthesia will take a while to wear off. From his records . . ." with her tone of voice and the raise of an eyebrow to indicate there were many of them from previous visits, "I can see he always has a bit of difficulty with the side effects so it's not going to be any time very soon."

"Yeah, it takes him forever to wake up after anesthesia." supplied Danny as he once again ran both hands through lank hair in frustration.

"Commander . . . Steve is going to be out of surgery in a few more minutes. Our vascular guy did a great job and they're just finishing the sutures on the last layer of muscle before closing up. He'll be going to recovery and then we're keeping him in ICU until we're sure he's completely stable. Sometime after that we'll be moving him to a step-down unit.

"When can we see him?" asked Kono, biting her lip in worry that hadn't yet abated

"When he's settled into ICU you can visit him individually for a few minutes every hour."

"I need to see him." said Danny, face setting into a hardened expression; he knew he'd have to fight for it.

"Like I said, when he's in ICU . . . "

"No, I need to see him in recovery. There's . . . an ongoing investigation into how this happened." Danny pushed

"I had assumed it was an accident?" said Trilling, raising her own eyebrows in question, "There were small shards of glass embedded in his skin in various places and a couple more in the gash on his thigh which appeared to be caused by something that made a very clean slice . . . like a large piece of broken glass."

"He was attacked." said Danny hoping this new information would get him enough points to see Steve in recovery.

"Be that as it may, he probably won't even know you're there. He certainly won't be in any shape to answer questions." said Trilling, now crossing her arms over her chest and locking eyes with the blonde detective.

"I can get the Governor involved if I have to." said Danny, knowing it may be an empty threat but he had to try anyway.

Trilling rolled her eyes. She knew these guys were Five-0 and though she hadn't had the pleasure, she'd heard of their fierce loyalty to one another from her colleagues.

Standing her ground for a few more moments she finally sighed. She knew cops had their own way of going about things. It had been a long night and she was tired. She'd already lost one patient earlier and had no energy to argue with the compact and strongly adamant detective.

"You can see him very briefly." she conceded, "If you cause **any** distress to my patient, you'll be thrown out on your ear, cop or not."

Danny solemnly nodded. He'd take what he could get. He just had to see Steve still breathing. The scenes in the dining room and then in the ambulance had shaken him to his core. He knew it was selfish but he had to see his friend alive and in the flesh – no matter how battered it may be at the moment.

There were a few more questions which Trilling patiently answered before excusing herself to get back to her duties.

"Great, just great, now more waiting." grumbled Danny, again trying to tame his hair by running his hands along both sides.

"Danny, why don't you go change your clothes?" said Kono as she gestured to the blonde's pants; the knees of which were stiffened with Steve's blood. "I fetched your go-bag from the office when I went to get the sandwiches. It's on the chairs over there."

"Uhh, yeah." answered Danny as he looked down at his now nearly dry slacks, one of the knees of which was actually stuck to his skin with its huge blackish stain.

". . . fucking bubble-wrap the bastard." he muttered as he almost angrily snatched up the bag and strode toward the men's room.

…

His prey was just ahead of him. He could hear its loud breathing as it ran further into the darkness. There was the scent of blood. He could tell that some of the blood wasn't that of his prey. It was his very own human's. That was distressing and it made him even more determined to find the man and kill him.

He ran faster as the water that fell from the sky began to make the smell wash away but the taste of blood still lingered in his mouth.

The little cat was locked on target.

…

Danny approached the bed slowly. He could see Steve shivering beneath the warming blankets placed over his body. He glanced worriedly at the nurse who was adjusting the flow of the bag of blood whose line ran to the crook of his partner's left arm.

The only part of his body that wasn't buried beneath the mound of blankets was his thigh which was propped up on several pillows, a huge bandage wrapped around it covering the leg nearly from groin to knee.

"Don't worry." she said reassuringly as she saw the blonde's reaction to the almost violent trembling of her patient, "It's a normal reaction for some people. He'll warm up soon."

He'd wanted to know . . . had to know . . . that his partner was still alive. Had to see for himself that the Neanderthal was still breathing but despite this not being the first time he'd seen Steve after surgery, it was still disturbing.

Steve still looked nearly bloodless. No hint of color was yet evident in the pale complexion tinged with blue in the hollows of his eyes and around his mouth. At least now the airway had been replaced with only a mask and the rise and fall of his chest was slower and steadier; the earlier desperate quest for oxygen no longer evident.

Taking Steve's still nearly icy hand, he gave it a quick squeeze before saying, "You cut it a little too close this time Steven. You know we're going to have to have another talk about such things."

Steve shivered again as Danny tucked the blankets tighter around his partner's shoulders.

….

He held his hand at the back of his neck as he ran. He could feel the warmth of blood mixing with the rivulets of the cooler rainwater as it ran down into his collar. That had been way too close. Whatever it was that had leaped onto his back and tried to kill him was terrifying.

He ran blindly toward where he'd left his car a couple of streets over. In his rush to escape, he'd just broken out the closest window and the thing had followed him. He heard it as it landed right behind him in the mud of the flower bed.

This wasn't the plan. Maybe McGarrett was dead and maybe he wasn't. If he was, then Kiki would be happy. If he wasn't, Kiki would be disappointed he hadn't gotten the job done.

There were all sorts of things these days that could tie him to the crime now. He'd read about DNA and fiber analysis and those things. Kiki was going to be pissed. He really didn't want to make her angry though it's what made them meet in the first place – that anger management class.

Splashing through a gargantuan puddle the size of Lake Ontario, he finally reached the Prius. He heard a bloodcurdling screech behind him just as he pulled the door open.

"Shit!" The creature had followed him! He threw himself into the car and slammed the door. Something thumped onto the windshield almost causing him to wet himself as he reached toward the dash to start the engine. Peering through the rain distorted glass he saw two evil yellow eyes staring back into his.

_It's a damned cat! What the hell?_

He pressed the button and waited for the green light that told him the engine was running. Usually the process was fast enough for him but this time it seemed to take forever. He could hear the animal's claws scrabbling for a hold on the wet slippery hood as he swung the car onto the street.

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**Hope you liked it. As always, reviews and any suggestions you'd like to make would be much appreciated.**

**Next chapter about halfway done. Just have to keep ninja cats out of my hair, (literally at times), to get the rest of it completed.**


	19. Just a Little Thud

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 19

**Here's the next. Fewer words but more action. Hope you like it. Thank you again for the wonderful reviews and suggestions. They are truly, truly, appreciated.**

**Imaginary Beta may be more prone than usual to letting things get past her. She had to get up at an ungodly hour to help make what seemed to be several hundred thousand enchiladas. I told her it was stupid to volunteer. She never listens.**

**Disclaimer: If I made any money from this, I'd have the number of a caterer on speed dial.**

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Just a Little Thud

After another 30 hours, Steve still hadn't awakened but was now stable enough to be placed in a regular room. Danny had finally gone home to shower and change; leaving instruction for Chin to call him immediately if Steve finally came-to or anything changed.

The Hawaiian detective sat reading something he'd brought from home; one of Frank Miller's 'Sin City' graphic novels. He smiled to himself as he turned the page. He knew people expected him to just sit contemplating the cosmic principles of the I Ching or perhaps break into a mystical chant of some sort when sitting quietly somewhere. This was his guilty pleasure.

Kono was off looking for Cujo. She'd hoped to find him waiting at Steve's place but he hadn't come back. If Steve woke up and asked for the cat, no one wanted to tell him that he was missing. Even if Cujo may be in danger, for his human's sake, they had to find him. Chin set his book down as he heard a soft groan from the man in the bed. Steve appeared to be slowly working his way back. The Hawaiian detective stood and put his hand on his boss's shoulder asking, "Steve, you wanna wake up for us now?"

After one more faint moan Steve resumed his silence and again lay breathing softly with eyes closed.

They'd better find that cat soon.

….

This was unnerving. No matter how many sharp turns and abrupt starts and stops he made the animal wouldn't let go and continued to cling to the small bit of grill that allowed water to drain off the windshield.

It was as though he'd been super glued to the damned hood!

Someone in a car coming from the opposite direction actually rolled down their window and honked to get his attention; yelling out, "You have a cat on your car!"

Of course he knew he had a fucking cat on his car! It was staring him right in the face!

…

Danny put the finishing touch on his newly washed and styled hair. The spray that lacquered the golden strands into place created a dense cloud in the small bathroom. It was so nice to feel clean again . . . and styled. He looked down at the pile of blood encrusted clothing that sat on the floor in front of the hamper. He was just going to throw them out. There wasn't enough detergent in the world to rid his shirt and pants of the dark rusty stains. They were ruined.

When he was up and about SuperSEAL would have to see about replacing them. _After all, it was his fault . . . and his blood. If he wasn't such a friggin' magnet for crap like this and hadn't been a target then he wouldn't have been laying three-quarters dead beneath a damned piece of furniture and BLEEDING OUT ON THE FUCKING FLOOR!_

Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes as the scene once again played in his mind. With a shaking hand he recapped the spray can and picked his keys off the counter. Maybe he could find some bubble-wrap on the way back to the hospital.

…..

She knew the popoki was micro-chipped and wearing ID tags; one of which was an official looking miniature badge that Danny had presented to Steve as a sort of joke. Steve had actually been delighted with it and immediately attached it to the little cat's collar as Danny shook his head in consternation. The jingle bell they'd previously attached to it, (Danny always threatened to attach a similar one to Steve), was pretty much useless. The clever cat had quickly adopted a gait that pretty much kept it from making any noise unless he was in a flat out run. Danny had very little warning of the wolverine's random attempts to off him. Maybe there was some sort of tech they could employ like the thing in some of the more expensive cars that warned you if you got too close to an object when parking.

Danny told her he'd gotten the impression from what Steve had managed to say before checking out of consciousness; Cujo had gone after the guy who'd attacked him. Animal control had been alerted and should anyone find him or report an injured or, heaven forbid, dead grey cat; they were to contact her on her cell. Considering Steve was still not very far from death's door, she didn't want him to be the first to be notified if anything dire had happened to his furry ally. The bond between the little WMD and her boss was a strong one.

She had no doubt the little wolverine would be protective of his owner, (she just wasn't sure who owned who), and was very much aware Cujo and Steve were more alike than her boss would care to admit.

They were both deceptively striking but lethal animals, (well, Cujo would be totally lethal if he was a little larger), and it wasn't wise to piss off either of them. The main difference between the two was that Cujo was very specific about who he would chose to protect whereas Steve thought it was his duty to protect pretty much everyone.

Leaving the McGarrett house, she'd just gotten off the phone with a company that specializes in cleaning up crime scenes involving blood and gore. The dining room carpet would have to be removed and disposed of. She didn't think it was salvageable. As for the broken stuff, Steve had once called his mother's china 'earthquake fodder' so she knew he probably wouldn't miss it. _It had been really pretty though._

She thought it was them calling her back with an estimate when her cell rang and she put it on speaker as she steered along the highway leading to HQ.

"Kalakaua" she answered, having adopted Steve's abrupt way of answering his phone

"Detective Kono Kalakaua?" she heard a woman's voice ask

"Yes, that's me."

"This is Francine from Honolulu Animal Control. You asked us to give you a call when we got any reports of grey cats being found?"

"Yes, that's right. Did you find Cujo?" she asked not knowing whether to be happy or not. She hoped the little popoki was okay.

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" asked Kono silently praying not to hear they'd only found only a mangled little body on the side of the road.

"Well, there's a report of a grey cat holding someone hostage in a car."

"That's gotta be Cujo!" she said excitedly

"The caller, someone who lives in the neighborhood, said he witnessed a guy in a blue Prius screaming his head off with a little grey cat screeching at him and trying to maul him every time he tried to get out of the car."

"Where is this hostage being held?"

"The address is 3662 Malanai Street. The car's in the driveway of the residence there. We've already got an animal control officer on the way."

"Thanks so much. I'll be there in ten! Please let your officer know that he or she should just wait for me and HPD and not to approach either the cat or especially whoever is in the car. They may be armed and extremely dangerous."

"Will do. I'll radio Nancy right now. Good luck dear."

Quickly punching the speed dial for Chin, she let him know what was going on. As soon as they'd hung up with each other, her cousin contacted HPD to request back-up at that address. Who knows who Cujo has managed to catch?

…..

When HPD arrived only moments behind the Hawaiian woman's red Cruze, the passenger's door of the Prius was ajar and neither its driver nor the cat were to be found.

Both sides of the quiet residential street were lined with small apartment complexes broken by a few small wood frame cottages like the one in whose driveway sat the eco-friendly vehicle. There'd been a break in the rain and the street was just beginning to acquire a bit of foot traffic, most of them curious as to why several police cars had invaded their relatively quiet neighborhood.

Kono immediately called Chin to tell him what they'd found, (or not found as the case may be). He responded he was already on his way to her location. He'd also contacted Danny who'd been on his way back to the hospital but now changed direction and would be meeting them there as well.

"Should we even be leaving Steve alone right now?" she asked worriedly; knowing if her boss regained consciousness and didn't recognize where he is he wouldn't necessarily be inclined to just lie there. From past experience it wasn't a good idea to leave Steve to his own devices when waking from anesthesia.

"Actually, Kamekona arrived just after you'd called. He'd come to visit and bring us something to eat. I asked if he could keep Steve company for a couple hours until we could get back. He was fine with it."

"Brah, I don't know if waking up to the big man is a good idea or not. If the first thing you see when you open your eyes is Kamekona . . . "

Chin just chuckled as it sounded as though he'd broken in to a jog saying, "Almost out the door. Be there in ten."

…..

There was movement all around him. People were shoving and poking and talking to him. Most of the words made no sense. Every once in a while there'd be a familiar sounding voice. It called his name and told him to wake-up. If he'd heard it right, it also called him an idiot.

Waking was far too difficult a task right now. Besides, he was finally warm and it was better to just lie still and enjoy the drugs. Consciousness was overrated.

…..

He'd travelled almost all the way to Queen's when his phone rang. Punching the button to put it on speaker as he made his way through afternoon traffic, he answered, "Hey Chin, how's our boy? He awake yet?"

"No, still being stubborn but hey, Kono just called. She said Animal Control contacted her because someone reported they'd seen a guy sitting trapped in his car by a cat."

"Sounds familiar." was Danny's quick reply, thinking it could be no other than their fierce little fanged fence rabbit. He himself had actually had a similar experience with the evil animal.

"Thought it would." smiled Chin as he patted Kamekona on one oversized shoulder and gave him a thumb's up sign. The large man took his place beside Steve's bed in a chair that may or may not be up to the challenge of supporting his bulk. Tough call.

As Chin strode toward the elevator bank, his phone still held against his ear, he said, "Sure sounds like Detective C.D. McGarrett has caught his man. We'd better get there before we have to bring in Max."

….

Danny pulled up to the front of the small house, parking on the opposite side of the street from where it sat. He could see that Kono was busy arguing with a uniformed officer as a woman in the slacks and knitted shirt sported by the Animal Control people stood and watched the animated contest. Chin had roared up on his bike only moments before and he'd quickly climbed off it, propping it on the stand, and strode to her side.

Now coming to stand beside her with arms crossed over his chest, Chin observed his cousin and a cop he recognized from his time at HPD in heated debate.

"We can't just start calling personnel in willy-nilly to search the city for a damned cat!"

"Look, for the third time, we're not looking for the cat! We're looking for whoever the cat is chasing!" Chin could tell from Kono's tone of voice and bristly stance she was at the end of her rope and would soon be engaged in a battle the guy was sure to lose.

"Cats don't track people!" yelled the harried officer Chin knew as Patrolman Saul Herrera."

"Dude" began the Animal Control officer, a rather substantial looking woman in her fifties, addressing the uniformed man, "Cats have noses as good as or better than dogs. Of course they can track stuff." she said in support of her sister-in-arms. "They just don't usually want to."

Herrera stopped talking to glare at the woman.

"Hey Saul." greeted Chin, "What's going on. You and officer Kalakaua seem to be in a disagreement over something?"

"Lieutenant Kelly, please tell your girl here that we can't have HPD running around chasing after friggin' pussy cats!"

_Okay_, thought Chin, _This guy's first mistake is referring to Kono as 'your girl'. The second is assuming that Cujo is just another 'friggin' pussy cat'._ Both were serious errors of supposition.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Danny pull up and park on the other side of the street. _Things will definitely get louder now._

"Saul, trust me." said Chin, hoping to head off an escalation, "This is no ordinary cat. Last night someone attacked Steve McGarrett and the cat fought off the attacker and apparently chased him all the way here."

Officer Herrera's eyebrows rose at least another inch toward his hairline as Kono stood glaring at him; practicing her very own version of the boss's glare-of-death.

_Wow, she's getting really good at it_, thought her cousin.

Danny came up to stand beside them, taking up the same confrontational stance as their female detective which had already been mirrored by the Animal Control officer who stood there as well. The uniformed cop was starting to look a bit unsure of himself.

Taking up the cause, the blonde detective said, "Look Saul, I know you think it's weird but trust me, I myself have had that animal on my case and he's no ordinary cat. If he's tracking someone and actually catches up to him, it's not gonna be pretty."

Now staring back at four supporters of the missing feline, Herrera snorted out a puff of air and gave in. "Okay, okay. I've heard of McGarrett's reputation and I thought the cat was, you know, part of that stupid myth."

When the Five-0's looked back at him, amazement on all three faces, he elaborated. "You know, the one about McGarrett being so tough he'll hang perps off the edges of roofs and throw them into shark cages . . . stuff like that. I was just thinking 'Of course, why would his cat be just an ordinary cat?'"

"Myth?" repeated Kono, shaking her head in disbelief that anyone would dare to call something that was so solidly rooted in fact a myth.

"Indeed." said Chin rather cryptically. _An ordinary cat huh._

…

_Just keep running!_ he told himself. _It has to give up sometime!_

They'd come to Kapiolani Boulevard, one of the busier thoroughfares in Honolulu. Hearing a menacing yowl behind him and the oddly incongruous sound of a jingle bell, he didn't even hesitate as he leaped off the curb to dash into traffic to reach the other side.

He almost made it.

With a screech of tires and a horrific thud, his body came to rest against the curb of the wide center median.

The much smaller thud and the tumbling little body that followed the first barely registered on anyone's radar.

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**Sorry about the cliffie but we all know the fanged fence rabbit will prevail.**

**Reviews would be nice if you'd care to give them.**


	20. Squirrel Sans Moose

Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time Its Personal

Chapter 20

**Here's the next. A little shorter and sooner than expected. Figured it would be best to get it out there before RL messed with me again. Your much appreciated comments on the previous chapter will be responded to very shortly. **

**Imaginary Beta did her best. As you may have noticed, I sneak back to fix her screw-ups for at least a day or two after the chapter is posted. Hope you don't mind.**

**Note: You guys had asked for a few of the characters from previous Cujo stories to make an appearance. The one in this chapter is from 'Small Comfort'.**

**Disclaimer: Since we don't get paid for this; do you think I could bribe my way into CBS's good graces by plying them with enchiladas? I have enough left over for cast and crew and probably the entire State of Hawaii. Guess I know what I'll be feeding husband into the next century. Cats are picky. Perhaps if I add some tuna?**

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Squirrel Sans Moose

**Present:**

Steve woke with a start. It wasn't the usual gradual rise to awareness. It was more like he'd popped up like a cork to the surface of consciousness. Suddenly, all was too bright and too loud.

_Something's wrong._ That, of course, was obvious when he managed to focus enough to look down at his body and saw all manner of lines and leads running to and from it.

But this was a different kind of wrong; a feeling that something bad had happened to someone other than himself. He tried to marshal his wits to remember what had caused him to wind up here but drew a blank.

….

**Many Hours Ago:**

Cujo stared at his prey through the clear part of the rolling box; his claws still securely hooked into the metal below it.

He knew he was going really fast. He could feel the water roll off his fur as the strange sticks that waved back and forth in front of him pushed it off the surface of the clear stuff that kept him from reaching his prey.

The man looked really scared. He knew what humans looked like when they were scared. He'd made them look that way several times. It was fun. But this time he didn't just want to make the man scared. He wanted to make him dead.

The box continued to swerve and stop and start as they traveled. He knew it was trying to shake him loose from his perch but it wasn't going to happen. His legs and paws are getting tired though. He hoped it would stop and stay in one spot soon so he could let go and get on with what he planned to do.

Suddenly, he heard a very loud sound behind him and the man he faced closed his eyes. The rolling box abruptly went almost sideways and he felt the tip of a claw break off. It was just enough for him to lose his grip on the metal. One more lurch and he was flying off, legs splayed trying to find some sort of balance in his unexpected travel.

This was not part of his plan.

…

He saw the cat go flying off the hood of the Prius that swerved by him as he blasted his horn at its driver. The tiny car just barely missed the left front bumper of his rig. The animal, legs outstretched like a flying squirrel, pinwheeled off into the greenery that lined the road.

It had been really close. The crazy sonofabitch driving that little piece of shit car was all over the road. Maybe it was because the rain had made the streets slick and he'd lost control but it looked too deliberate.

Anyway, a collision was avoided. He blew out a relieved breath as the Prius sped by. He watched in his rear view as it disappeared into the distance. _What happened to that cat?_

….

**Present:**

Kamekona hadn't yet looked up from the months old magazine he'd found in the waiting room. Apparently, there was some sort of drama going on with that Lohan girl again. Poor keiki, he'd really liked her in that movie about those twins that switched places to fool their parents. She'd really grown up since then.

In the photo displayed in the tabloid's tattered pages she looked gaunt and tired. _Sure looks like she could use some of my cooking,_ thought the big man. If she came to the islands, he was sure he could fatten her up. _A few plates of shrimp stuffed croissants and gravy with a side of his wasabi fries and . . ._

The beeping from at least one of the mysterious machines monitoring his friend had suddenly become faster. He looked up to see dark blue eyes staring confusedly back at him.

….

**Many Hours Ago:**

He carefully applied the airbrakes and the big-rig slowly came to a halt on the shoulder. It didn't feel right to just leave the animal lying injured somewhere. Jumping down into a large mud puddle as he exited the cab, he swore loudly as he shielded his eyes from the rain and pulled his collar tighter about his neck. He walked back up the road toward the place the near head-on had occurred.

He scanned the side of the highway looking for a body. It would be hard to find if it landed in the knee high grass that lined both sides of the thoroughfare. On the other hand, the vegetation may help keep the animal from hitting the ground with a surely fatal result. His eyes caught a slight movement a few yards farther on and a small, wet, dazed looking, cat emerged from the greenery to stand on the side of the road. With a sigh of relief he walked toward it.

"Nice kitty." he said as he came closer and it stood staring suspiciously back at him. "You've had quite an adventure huh? You okay?"

The cat had apparently decided he wasn't a threat and it didn't move when he got close enough to pick it up. He gathered up the soggy little creature and it seemed to relax into his arms.

"So, who do you belong to?" he asked, not really expecting an answer, "I hope it isn't the guy driving that car. That was just wrong."

His fingers first searched through the wet fur for any sign of injury and finding none, it allowed him to look at the tag attached to the black nylon collar around its neck. There was a small miniature badge along with a jingle bell and a plastic disk with engraving on it. He didn't have his glasses on so it would have to wait until he got the cat back into the rig to read it.

The animal remained quiet as he climbed into the truck with it and searched for a towel to wrap it in. He hoped he could find who it belonged to. It seems like a nice little cat.

…

He thought he'd finally lost that insanely ferocious cat with that last maneuver. Busy trying to shake the animal loose, he'd almost collided with a semi coming from the opposite direction. When he'd squeezed his eyes shut to wait for the impact that didn't happen and then opened them again - the animal was gone.

Breathing deeply to ease his frazzled nerves while trying to decide if he should get himself to an emergency room to get the painful bite wounds and claw marks on the back of his neck and shoulders tended to, he ultimately decided against it. It may cause too many questions.

After pulling into his driveway, he looked around one last time before opening the car door. He staggered up the walkway to his front porch and with shaking hands pulled out his key to unlock the door.

That cat had been unnerving.

…

Cujo gratefully accepted the offer of the small container of milk. Being thrown into the grass wasn't nice. This man was nice. He purred as a large hand stroked his now dry fur.

"I'm gonna have to drop you off at the animal shelter on the way home. I'm sure they'll find out who you belong to soon enough."

The cat continued to delicately lap up his dinner.

"Sorry about not knowing your name but it ought to be Frisbee from the way you sailed off the hood of that car. If I'd remembered to take my reading glasses with me this morning, I could read that official looking tag you've got on your collar. Someone obviously cares about you, just not that asshole in the Prius.

As the truck rolled through the still falling rain, the man apologetically continued explaining to his little passenger, "My kid's allergic to anything with fur so I'm sorry I can't keep you cat. As it is, my wife is gonna make me undress in the garage so Lana doesn't wind up with an asthma attack from the fur you got on my clothes."

The truck driver smiled at the little animal he was glad he could help. He really wished he could keep him. He seems like such a nice cat. Putting the truck into gear, he carefully pulled back onto the highway.

….

Finally able to take a sip of his tea without any danger of spilling it, he stared at the phone for another minute before deciding to wait a bit to call Kiki. He didn't think she'd be happy about the messy way things worked out with McGarrett. He'd just listened to the news report on the radio and Five-0's leader wasn't dead yet. He'd apparently clung to life like that cat had clung to the hood of his car.

He _could_ tell her it wasn't even him that had done it. Surely the man must have hundreds of enemies. He and his team had been responsible for cleaning up several large crime syndicates trying to establish themselves firmly in the state. There'd been drugs and slavery . . . all kinds of unsavory enterprises put out of business.

He could tell her that it could have been any number of criminals seeking revenge on the guy but he really wasn't good at lying. He'd always considered himself an honest person even if it appears the world doesn't seem to work that way anymore.

Everyone lied. They'd lied about Myra getting better. They'd lied when they told him the operation would work. They lied when they told him computer guided instruments were the best way to go. There were too many lies. Now death . . . death spoke the truth. It was the ultimate truth; one couldn't argue with the Grim Reaper.

Taking another sip of tea, he settled back into the easy chair. Actually, these days, he really only liked to talk to Kiki. She was the only one he could count on. She was the only one who understood. Those shrinks pretended to understand but he knew they didn't. They lied too. The pills didn't make him feel better; they only made him feel numb. He needed to be able to concentrate on his campaign. The one that would make everyone realize they had to talk to one another in person, face to face, rather than through their electronic gizmos.

He laughed out loud then in the room only he and his memories occupied. The sound seemed to echo off the bare walls and the carpetless floor. Here he was talking about communicating and the only communicating he'd done lately was with a knife. He'd have to sign up for a book club or something. It wasn't good to be so isolated.

…

**Present:**

"Brah, I don't think it's a good idea to try to get out of bed right now. Da little haole's gonna have your ass for tryin' to make a escape." declared Kamekona as he heaved his body from the overly stressed chair and came to the side of the bed while Steve struggled to free himself of the equipment that encumbered him.

After detaching I.V.'s leads and wires, he realized he still had the Foley to contend with and stopped his struggle for the moment.

Just then, alerted by the blaring alarm of the cardiac monitor he'd disconnected, one of the nurses hurriedly entered the room.

Blinking to clear his vision a bit better to see if it was someone he could charm into doing what he wanted, he groaned. He recognized this woman all too well. The game was pretty much over.

"You going somewhere Commander?" she asked, arms crossed over her chest; challenge in both voice and stance.

"Uhh, hi Bambi." he managed to croak out

"Can't say it's good to see you again Commander. At least not under these circumstances."

"Can you please help me, I have to leave and there's still the Foley to deal with."

"Haven't we been through this scenario at least once or twice in the past?" she bit out, making the words sound a little too crisp to be just a question.

"Uhh . . . "

"As I recall, it didn't work out very well for you that last time. What makes you think it will work out any better this time?"

Kamekona, recognizing the potential for bloodshed crept unobtrusively, (as unobtrusively as someone of his size could creep), toward the door.

Whether from the head rush of sitting up so quickly or the shock of being busted by his former caregiver, Steve began to blink rapidly at the spots swimming in his vision.

Recognizing the signs of lightheadedness and the possibility her stubborn former and now current patient may actually pass out; Nurse Bambi moved quickly. Coming to his side, she grabbed his arm to keep him from taking a header off the edge of the bed. _Talk about déjà vu._

"I see you learned nothing from your last stint under my care." she scolded, but not too terribly unkindly . . . for a pit bull.

"Bambi, I have to get to my team. Something's wrong."

"From what I know of your injuries _this time_, getting out of bed isn't even a remote possibility for you at this point. You've lost a dangerous amount of your blood volume, really screwed up your kidneys and have several layers of stitches in your thigh. You really want to re-tear that artery that's just been repaired? I would advise against it."

When she saw that Steve may actually be weighing the pros and cons of leaving his bed, she barked, "That was only rhetorical. Lay back down in that bed Commander!"

"But . . . "

"Do you know that Doctor Trilling left instructions to sedate you into next Tuesday if you became too agitated? Apparently she's heard the stories." *

"But . . . "

"I can't believe you'd even consider undoing all the work it took them to keep you from bleeding to death. Lay that skinny ass down! I said now!"

Reluctantly recognizing it for the lost cause that it is, Steve meekly answered, "Yes ma'am", as Kamekona's eyes became round at the 'Great Warrior McGarrett's' sad surrender. _This woman must be powerful! _thought the entrepreneur in amazement.

Steve had closed his eyes and allowed himself to be guided down onto the bed. Maybe getting out of it wasn't such a good idea right now anyway. His stomach was threatening to give up whatever its meager contents. He tried to breathe through the nausea.

"You!" she said to Kamekona who'd almost made good his escape.

The big man froze, the look on his face like that of a very, very, large deer staring at oncoming headlamps. "Yes auntie?"

"Keep your friend company while I go get the doctor. She wanted to know when this idiot regained consciousness. Do-Not-Let-Him-Leave-This-Bed! Understand?"

"Yes auntie." gulped the extra-large entrepreneur, reluctantly aborting his attempt to be elsewhere

Nurse Bambi went off in search of the doctor as Kamekona came to stand beside the bed. McGarrett, pale and clammy, lay with eyes closed, breathing faster than anyone only lying in a bed should be.

Leaning forward, the big man whispered to his friend, "Brah, you got another one like the little haole on your case. You're screwed."

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***Note: I know it's against the rules to sedate people against their will. Was busted for that in a previous story but let's just pretend shall we?**

**Still lots coming up. How does Cujo get back on track? (Not sure yet myself). Dave will be coming for a visit and Steve is bored. Revenge against a certain Jersey detective will be sweet.**

**Comments would be most welcome. I hope the past/present stuff wasn't too confusing. Sort of mucked-up the timeline.**


	21. The Smell of Fate

Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 21

**Here's the next. I know it's very, very, late but sometimes ADD is just a way of saying one is 'creative'. Sometimes it's a way of saying, 'You did what?! Fix it!'**

**Sincere thank yous to those who reviewed, alerted and favorited. You guys kept me from chucking this when I realized I'd written myself into a corner - again.**

**Disclaimer: Were never mine and never made any money. Ninja cats still waiting for that promised mouse ranch - the one where mice have been genetically engineered to run directly into the mouths of cats too lazy to chase them.**

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The Smell of Fate

Present:

"Aloha little man." was the greeting as Danny answered his cell. He didn't take offense; it was their usual way of saying hello.

"Hey big man. I heard you caught babysitting duty. Is Rambo awake yet?"

"The personage of whom you speak jus woke up 'bout a half hour ago but he's back in la la land right now."

"So, is the personage behaving himself? I'm only asking to be polite you understand; I assume he's already causing trouble."

"Naw, the big Kahuna got his self shot full of happy juice for wanting to go mahuka from da hospital."

"I'm assuming you mean he was trying to escape?"

"Yeah. He said someting 'bout havin' to go check on his team; dat someting was wrong - but he doan get a chance. Da nurse tole him to get his skinny ass back in bed an he did. It was weird Brah!"

"So, other than being a gigantic pain in the ass, how is our boy?"

"Not lookin' too good but tryin' to make a break for it anyway. There's a really tough auntie watchin' out for him. I tink she said her name was Nurse Bambi."

"Bambi!" hooted Danny, _McGarrett is so screwed_, "Oh, this is perfect! She's exactly the one he needs right now. She'll definitely keep him in line."

"Probly a good ting she's here 'cause he surrendered pretty fast when she treaten him. I tink da Great Warrior McGarrett's gonna go down big time if he doan behave."

"You have no idea Big Man."

Danny actually breathed a sigh of relief. If Steve found out the cat was missing, loaded to his eyeballs with meds or not, he'd be out of the hospital like a shot to go search for his not-my-pet.

That time Steve was in the hospital in Jersey and Cujo had gone on a walkabout in Honolulu; the delirious and only semi-conscious man had somehow known the cat was in trouble. That time he'd been too sick to do anything about it but his entire team thought there was something a little freaky about the Neanderthal knowing Cujo was in danger even though they were thousands of miles away from each other.

Frowning at the memory he continued the conversation with Kamekona, "Yeah, well, from past experience, Steve knows she means business. He won't be going anywhere for a while."

"Brah, residents of Hotel Halawa got a better chance o' breakin' out than McGarrett." responded Kamekona

Chuckling at the big man's assessment, Danny asked, "Did he say anything regarding what happened? How he got hurt? Or, you know, like where's his cat?"

"Naw, I doan tink he's hittin' on all cylinders yet. Didn' say anyting 'boudit."

"Maybe he'll be more talkative when he wakes again. We'll just have to wait."

"You know I would be happy to stay an watch his ass but you tink I can leave soon? I gots to go see 'bout a new shrimp shipment at my uhh fish dealer's. It's only . . . uh . . . on sale for a very short time and I gotta get dere before da . . . uhh . . . shrimp is gone."

"Yeah, go ahead and leave. Like you said, the Big Kahuna isn't going anywhere now that Bambi's there."

"You got dat right bruddah."

…..

Hours ago:

There were dogs here! Lots of them!

Cujo looked outward from his perch in the nice man's arms as he was carried toward a building that resounded with the sounds of barking and meowing. He knew this wasn't the place with the bubbles that smelled like flowers. He'd been taken to that place one time after chasing the animal with the big fluffy tail. It didn't run. It just turned around and sprayed something awful on him but it still didn't smell as bad as what the tall female sprayed on him.

This didn't smell like the bubble place at all. It smelled like dogs! He is not going in there!

Growling, the little body began to tense.

…..

Present:

He didn't remember putting the TV on. Waking from a drugged slumber, he lay listlessly watching the local news. Eyes at half-mast and narrowing further as he squinted, trying to focus on the glowing images moving across the screen; it took an extra beat or two for the pictures and words to actually take on meaning.

Apparently, he himself was the subject of the currently airing report. If he'd heard it right, he'd just been described as the 'heroic' commander of the Governor's Special Task Force who was 'clinging to life in a local hospital'.

The first thought that registered was, _Almost being killed by a big-ass piece of furniture and your mother's dishes somehow doesn't sound very heroic. _The image of what had caused this latest hospital stay briefly flashed into his mind but stayed no longer than the time it took for Danny to inhale a malasada before the hazy memory crumbled away. He might actually be frustrated with the lack of concentration if he could hold onto the feeling for longer than a few seconds.

Though his head was possibly filled with sawdust; physically he didn't feel too bad for someone 'clinging to life'. He knew it must be due to what Bambi had so enthusiastically pushed into the I.V. port a few minutes ago. Well, at least he thought it was a few minutes ago. He had no idea how long it had been. Carefully turning his head lest the nausea return, he saw that Kamekona was still beside him - on guard like a giant mastiff. The man was engrossed in a magazine and didn't notice his charge had reawakened.

Steve had vague memory of Bambi saying something about Dr. Trilling wanting him to stay still and not undo all their hard work . . . and that he was an idiot._ Wait, was Danny here too?_ He wished he could focus a little better.

Blearily looking down at himself, he could see his thigh was still elevated on several pillows. _Could they have wrapped it in a bigger bandage? I look like a friggin' mummy._

He knew the dreaded Foley was still with him as well. At least the haze of drugs seemed to dull the feeling of humiliation at being required to pee through a plastic tube. He did remember someone telling him his kidneys had been compromised by blood loss and they had to closely monitor output. _That doesn't sound good._

Restlessly shifting as much as he could, the dull ache in his thigh became a bit more than an ache and he stopped moving. As he lay waiting for a sharp stab of pain to quiet down he was again gripped by the feeling something was amiss with his team. As soon as he could make a break for it he was gonna find out what's going on. _Yeah, just as soon . . . as . . . _

The muted beeping of the heart monitor was once again augmented by the soft snoring of the man in the bed.

….

Hours ago:

"It's okay cat. They'll be able to find out who you belong to. Just chill. I'm really sorry I have to leave you here but I have to get home."

As one hand let go its hold on the tense little body in preparation to pushing open the door; the cat realized it was time to take advantage of the opportunity and exploded out of his arms.

"Hey!" said the surprised truck driver as the animal hit the ground and skittered across the walk and into the foliage that lined it. "Dammit! Now what?"

He spent another twenty minutes searching for the little cat to no avail. Sighing in resignation, he went into the office to report the missing feline should anyone want to bother to look for it.

Coming back out to his rig in the parking lot, he gave one last hopeful look around before climbing into the cab and sighing before saying aloud to the empty space, "Well, good luck to you cat. I hope you haven't used up all of those nine lives. Stay off the hoods of cars just in case."

The airbrake released with a loud hiss as he put the big machine into gear and pulled slowly back out onto the highway. He really hoped the cat would be okay. It's such a sweet little animal.

…..

Present:

Kamekona had said an apologetic goodbye; saying something about having to get somewhere before the shrimp were gone. With a tongue that seemed only marginally cooperative Steve gave a garbled acknowledgement to assure him he was fine to be left alone. As he watched the extra-large entrepreneur leave the room his mind drifted muzzily for a bit before finally landing on the thought the big man moved surprisingly quickly for someone the size of a battleship. He laughed at the analogy.

_Yeah, good name - USS Kamekona . . . a big battleship the size of . . . no, maybe an aircraft carrier, those are waaay bigger . . . but what would that make Danny? He'd be really pissed if he was compared to a dinghy. Ookay, can't tell him that. . . . No, wait! Danny's one of those little speed boats. They're not that big but have outboards that are powerful and thunderously noisy . . . _He stopped what he hoped was only a mental conversation with himself before saying aloud, "Whoa, these drugs are really kicking my ass!"

He'd have to talk to the doctor about that. There was no way he was going to stay in la-la-land when he had a job to do. There was still something his mind couldn't quite grasp; a reason for the foreboding feeling that kept him from getting any real rest.

_Damned Noritake! Damned drugs! Damned Bambi!_ Closing his eyes, he drifted away once more as on the glowing screen in front of him Kiki Kenworthy looked earnestly into the camera lens and began her latest coverage of the Macchiato Murders.

….

Hours ago:

He'd finally run far enough that he could no longer hear the nice man shouting after him. All around him were buildings now. He couldn't even smell the big water. All he could detect was the smell of humans, none of them familiar, and the smell of the rolling boxes that breezed noisily by him.

In the many smells around him, he had to find the one he was looking for. He had to find the man who'd hurt his human . . . and kill him.

…..

A BOLO for a cat? Now he'd heard of everything. He searched half-heartedly for the animal as he steered the unmarked sedan away from HPD headquarters. This was a big city. The friggin' cat could be anywhere. He spotted a cat lazing on the walk in front of a touristy sort of candle shop. The feline was taking advantage of the finally reappearing sun that had been mostly absent for the last few days. The dispatcher had said the one they were to look for was a solid grey color. This one was grey but it had stripes. He wondered if cat's had paw prints like humans had fingerprints. Oh well, if they found it flattened on the street somewhere, he supposed there was always DNA to identify it. They could do that right? Everything had DNA.

The day had heated up to its usual steaminess at this time of year. The detective was eternally grateful for the air-conditioning in HPD's standard issue sedan. He'd just dropped Mickey off at H.Q. His partner, (thankfully for only a few more months), stating he had to go 're-interview Kiki Kenworthy' and he didn't want to tie them both up, asked to be dropped off so he could use his own car.

Though Brotman didn't say anything, he knew what the sleazeball had been up to. He hoped the guy's wife would catch him some day. She was too nice a woman to waste her time with Mickey.

Oh well, just a few more months and he'd be sitting on his ass somewhere on a beach with a beer in his hand and Mickey Kilkenny would be only an oily memory. Retirement couldn't come too soon.

...

He was getting tired . . . and annoyed. It was hot now and his fur had dried funny. He knew he didn't look his best. The people he passed didn't stop to admire him or try to pet him. They just sort of got out of his way with a kind of worried look on their faces. Well, maybe it wasn't a worried look. It was more like the look the loud man had when he was scooping stuff out of the box of crunchy sand. Hmm.

He stopped and sat in the middle of the walk. Approaching him was a human and a dog. The dog was tied with a string. He watched them come closer before he fuzzed up his tail and gave a low growl. The dog froze at first then began barking and trying to get to him while his human screamed and tried to hold onto the string.

This could be fun.

...

Call it fate. Call it serendipity. Call if fuckin' weird, but when Phil Brotman turned the next corner onto Makaloa Street, there sat a small grey cat staring menacingly at a little terrier. He slammed on his brakes, flipped on his lights and pulled to the curb.

The dog looked unglued, straining at its leash and yapping like a wind-up toy. The woman who had hold of the other end of the leash was actually having a bit of a time holding onto her animal even though it couldn't have weighed more than twenty pounds or so. She was screaming at it to stop but, of course, it didn't. It looked like a Jack Russell.

Brotman thought the cat actually looked smug as it sat calmly running a paw over its face and ears; apparently knowing the dog couldn't get any closer. The detective was laughing aloud as he got out of his car. The cat was obviously fucking with the dog. It knew the furious canine couldn't reach him.

Just from the display of chutzpah, Brotman knew this had to be Five-0's cat but he'd never actually seen it. From its fierce reputation, he thought it would be the size of a lion, not this smallish mangy looking little thing.

Addressing the stressed and nearly frantic woman as he came within a few feet of the tense little tableau, (the cat paying him no mind whatsoever), he said, "Ma'am, would you like me to get the cat away from you and your dog?"

"Oh my God yes!" exclaimed the middle-aged local woman as she gritted her teeth and pulled hard on the straining leash, "That cat is driving Leelee crazy! I can hardly hold onto her!"

Brotman smiled at her, "Looks like we need to do an intervention huh?"

He called in a 10-11, (animal problem), wondering if he should be using the codes designating a fight in progress or the one that meant he was detaining a suspect.

He asked the dispatcher to patch him through to Sergeant Lukela. Duke had been around a long time and had pretty much seen everything. He'd been the one who told him the tale of the cat making a tumultuous appearance at a party he'd attended at McGarrett's. If this was Five-0's cat he had to ask him how the hell he was supposed to capture and transport this animal he knew had the reputation of a rabid tiger _. . . do tigers get rabies?_

"Hey Sarge", he said as soon as Duke came on the line, "What the hell am I supposed to do with this cat? If it's McGarrett's and as mean as everyone says it is, I'm gonna get shredded if I try to pick it up." Brotman watched the animal still taunting the dog that continued to frantically bark at it while trying to pull away from its owner.

"Get a sack, a strong one, stuff him in it and hold on tight." advised Lukela on the other end of the call, a huge smile on his lined face. He vividly remembered his own first introduction to the animal at Five 0's H.Q. There was this silk-furred innocent looking half-grown cat winding around his legs begging for attention. When he reached down to pet it there must have been ten people who screamed all at the same time "DON'T TOUCH THE CAT!"

Jeeze you'da thought it was gonna take his arm off. Later on, he learned that it could very well do that and he'd been saved from a probable mauling.

He'd always wondered why McGarrett would keep such an animal. It couldn't be the same reason people kept pit bulls; protection or feelings of inadequacy. McGarrett certainly didn't fit that profile. His BAMF reputation was well-deserved. The commander was a one-man demolition crew plus he had probably the best back-up possible in his hand-picked team. Well, the badassed little popoki fit in with the rest of them he supposed.

With a smile, he wished Brotman luck.

…..

Brotman went to the trunk of the sedan and pulled out the big bag in which was kept various pieces of emergency equipment like extra flashlights, blankets and water. Keeping one eye on the cat, he quickly emptied it. Loosening the drawstrings on the thickly woven nylon sack and holding the bag upside down and as widely open as possible, he quietly crept toward the animal still engaged in what amounted to a pissing contest with a dog.

He was glad he'd had stealth experience from sneaking up on drug dealers and assorted other perps. He just never thought he'd have to use it on a cat.

Surprisingly, the animal hadn't even looked up at him. It seemed to be having too much fun teasing the now frenzied terrier. Springing forward, Brotman shoved the bag over the surprised feline and quickly pulled the cords that drew it shut.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed triumphantly as the bag began to wriggle while emitting the most frightening sounds he'd ever heard in his life. It was everything he could do to hold onto it. Tying a quick sloppy knot in the cords, he carried it toward the car; the dog now trying to pull in the other direction as the sounds coming from the sack increased in volume and ferocity.

"Ouch!" he yelped as teeth somehow found their way through the almost bullet-proof fabric and into his wrist. _Five-0 is gonna owe me for this one!_ He thought darkly as he held the squirming bag away from him while he inspected the two perfectly fang shaped holes in his wrist. _Cat's a fucking vampire!_

The woman thanked him profusely for the rescue as he gave her a tight smile trying not to give into the pain of his punctured wrist and swear a blue streak. Wanting to set the bag down as quickly as possible before he was bitten again, he jerked open the back door of the car and tossed it in – perhaps not as gently as he could have. The bite stung like a bitch.

"Shut up cat!" he yelled to the bag wriggling and howling on the back seat. _Damn that thing made a lot of noise for such a small animal!_

He knew cats weren't like dogs. The ones he remembered growing up around couldn't care less when you gave them an order. He wished this was a dog. Dogs he could deal with. This was a Tasmanian devil masquerading as a cat. He'd watched animal planet. It had to be.

….

Cujo growled and cursed in his nylon prison. This was not good! He was not happy! How was he going to find the man who hurt his human if he kept becoming a prisoner?!

Someone was going to be very, very sorry when he got out of this bag! When he gets out of here, whoever had trapped him is going to be dead like a lizard! Dead like a mouse!

He could hear the man laugh at him. He really didn't like to be laughed at. The loud man had laughed at him. The loud man didn't do that anymore. He'd made sure of it.

…..

The blue Prius came charging around the corner on two wheels. He didn't know a Prius could even do that.

Dammit! He muttered as the little car clipped the corner of his bumper. This day was turning out to be a freaking mess. First Mickey decided to bail and now, he was trapped in a car with the animal that had drilled holes in his wrist and was driving him crazy with its howling. Now he was gonna have to file a report on a traffic collision. _Great. Just fuckin' wonderful._

He pulled up behind the Prius as it headed to the curb and parked. Its driver, an innocuous looking little guy with coke bottle eyeglasses, exited the car; insurance card already in hand and an apologetic look on his face.

Having radioed in his location and the code for officer involved traffic accident Brotman climbed wearily out of the sedan, leaving the driver's side door open.

…

The annoyed little cat managed to hook a paw through the small opening at the top of the sack. He could feel the thick strings slip as he poked his nose through the now slightly widened opening. Pushing with all his might it slipped open enough for his head to pop out.

Taking in a quick sniff, Cujo immediately picked up on the scent. It was the man he was looking for! The man he was going to kill!

…..

As he approached the woefully apologetic looking driver who stood waiting with driver's license and insurance information at the ready, Brotman wondered, _Whatever have I done in a previous incarnation to deserve such a fucked up day? Deserted by my sleazoid partner, bitten by a pint-sized rabid tiger, involved in a traffic accident, what the hell else was going to go wrong today?_

Suddenly almost as though it was directly behind him, Detective Philip Brotman heard the unnerving cry of a Tasmanian devil.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Hope this made sense. It took forever to work out the timeline. It's beyond my skills to plot out a story beforehand so I get myself into trouble sometimes. Sorry it took so long to dig my way out of the hole. Hope to have Dave make a hospital visit in the next chapter so the wheels of revenge can be put in motion.**

**Please review if you're still reading. Would love to hear if you think this chapter worked or not.**


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